A Wing Short of Flying
by kireira
Summary: AU. Tsuzuki, in his suicidal years, was taken in by Muraki as an experiment subject. He gradually developed a bond with Hisoka, the doctor's devoted assistant, who also understood what it meant to have unearthly power. Complete
1. The Room

_Disclaimer_:  
Credits for character design goes to Matsushita Yoko.

_Author Notes_:  
This is an AU, so there will be OOC-ness, and timelines are way off. Tsuzuki is his suicidal self, back when he was treated in hospital by Muraki's grandfather (ref. Kyoto Arc), but I replace the doctor with Muraki himself.

Pairings are any two of Tsuzuki-Hisoka-Muraki. (Does it sound perverted, the way I say it? -_-0) There'll be hints at yaoi in later chapters where Muraki is involved, but nothing graphic.

_Italics_ are thoughts.

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**A Wing Short of Flying**

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_We are each of us angels with only one wing. And we can only fly embracing each other. _

**_- Luciano de Creschenzo_**

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Prologue: The Room

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******..**

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The pair of eyes fluttered open.

He was so accustomed to that feeling, the turning back from death. He remembered the sensation of fading out, the seemingly endless drifting in nothingness. Then always, always, he was pulled back by invisible hands chaining his consciousness to the accursed body.

He remembered the sensations very well. He was so sick of them.

Waking up was just another interval in his long wait for death, a space for another suicide attempt.

Awareness dawned on him just enough to realize: the walls were not the usual hospital-white.

He turned his head slightly to take in his surroundings. Sunlight was framed in a small window, reflected on the metallic apparatus on the table beside his bed. In the far corner, a boy looked up from his reading, noticing his movement.

The boy hastily crossed the room to attend to his bedside. He came to a halt a few steps away, and was openly staring at him.

Oh, of course. These violet eyes.

He closed his eyes briefly, and the boy started out of his reverie.

"Where… am I?" He asked in hoarse, long unused voice.

"My master's… research lab," the voice that answered him was nervous and hesitant.

"… Lab," he repeated. The boy nodded.

A scientist. So the doctors have given up…or have they?

"How…?" he asked again. "… Hospital…"

The boy looked oddly frightened. He fidgeted, and didn't answer. As the violet eyes kept their gaze on his face, he finally spoke.

"Master will explain to you when he comes back," he said.

A scientist. It must be fascinating for them to study, this body that just won't die.

He turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

"Uh… do you want something to eat? I'm ordered to take care of you while Master is out."

He shook his head. The lack of food didn't kill him anyway.

The boy opened his mouth as if to speak, but changed his mind. He returned to his corner and picked up his book, but didn't read it. His eyes were on him all the time, fear obvious in them. For some reason he knew it was not the fear of him. Rather, the lad feared something would happen to this precious experiment object, and his master would be mad at him.

It was something new. But he ignored it all the same.

.

.

The sun had turned red when there was a click on the door, and a man in a white lab coat entered.

The boy stood up instantly. "Master," he said. "The patient..."

The man stopped his report with a signal of his hand, and turned to the bed.

"It's been eight days now, the longest in the record so far," he addressed the man on the bed. "I see you've finally woken up, Tsuzuki-san."

He was not surprised that the scientist knew his name. Certainly they had all of his medical records.

At his silence, the man continued.

"Muraki Kazutaka," he introduced himself. "I've been monitoring your condition since you were admitted to the hospital under Amano-sensei's care, two years ago. The hospital has finally approved my request to keep you here. If you would cooperate, Tsuzuki-san, I'd like to conduct a research on that extraordinary body of yours."

Nothing of that surprised him either. He remained silent, turning over to the window.

The scientist-doctor huffed, apparently giving up trying to get a response. "Boy," he called to his assistant.

"Yes, Master." A quick, trained response.

"Keep watch on Tsuzuki-san. Don't leave this room. You understand?"

"Yes, Master."

He heard the man leaving the room, the boy returning to his corner. He heard them, but the sounds bore no imprint in his mind.

.

..

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_

_Author Notes:_

Kyoto Arc said Tsuzuki didn't sleep at all during his eight years in the hospital… but I kinda need him to sleep in this story, so I conveniently ignore that detail. Heh.


	2. The Other

_Author Notes:_

I have no access to Tsuzuki's medical records, so I make them all up. =P Also, as much as I'd like to keep to the canon, I can't really figure out what actually happened in Tsuzuki's past, so please bear with my interpretation for that part as well.

My thanks to all who reviewed:

**_Literary Eagle_**: Frankly, I don't know if the story would be up to your expectation, since I deal more with emotions and not much for plotline and actions. I hope you'll enjoy it though. =)

**_Tessa_**: Sorry for not making that clear. This is Tsuzuki from before he died in the hospital at age 26. I refer to Kyoto Arc for background info, but take liberty with the timeline. Hisoka is around 13 years old here, just as he was before the curse happened; Tsuzuki is 23 (to maintain the age difference), and Muraki is 29, as I believe he was when he met Hisoka according to the manga.

_Italics_ are thoughts.

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**A Wing Short of Flying**

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_There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning._

**_- Louis L'Amour, "Lonely on the Mountain"_**

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Chapter One: The Other

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When he opened his eyes again, the young assistant from before was sitting on a chair beside his bed. He looked up from his book almost instantly and met Tsuzuki's gaze.

The violet eyes were blank, light long gone from them. Still the boy looked away after a while, embarrassed.

Tsuzuki's throat felt dry, and he coughed slightly.

Without a word, the boy reached for the jug on the table, poured some water into a glass, and held it towards him.

He raised one weak hand towards the glass. The boy hesitated, then took a spoon, scooped the water and fed him.

When he had had enough, he turned his head to the side. Taking the hint, the boy returned the glass to the table.

Outside, hints of sunrise had barely appeared on the far horizon. No birds or butterflies could be seen or heard. The room was almost still in its silence.

He still felt the boy's uneasy gaze on him. He wondered if he'd stayed awake all night watching him like that.

_What now? _Tsuzuki thought. _I have run out of ways to die._

The boy shifted on his chair restlessly. He was startled when Tsuzuki turned to him, and looked guilty.

__

_Poor boy.__ Why is he so nervous?_

Said boy was fiddling with his fingers at that moment.

"Do you… need something, Sir? I could help you wash up… or prepare some breakfast."

Tsuzuki shook his head. The boy looked at him uncomfortably for another second before looking down at his lap.

Tsuzuki turned his face to the ceiling, and closed his eyes. All his memories came to him again, fresh from the night's dream.

They never left him alone. The blood, the screams, the reproaching eyes. His past that was never over.

Then again, his past was all he had.

He opened his eyes. The early morning sun was now fully visible through the window, and the boy had crossed the room to switch off the light.

Tsuzuki watched the boy as he sat back down. That thin frame seemed to have endured pain for all his years.

__

_Perhaps it's better that the doctor is here when I try another suicide. At least this boy would be spared from his rage._

The boy looked up at him, startled.

_What is it he's staring at?_ Tsuzuki frowned. _Those green eyes, there are something in them…_

The boy blushed for a reason Tsuzuki couldn't comprehend, and lowered his gaze.

__

_It was as though…what I feel…are reflected in them._

"… Why—" the boy started uncertainly.

At that time the door opened, and Muraki entered.

"Good morning, Tsuzuki-san," he said, a professional smile on his face. "We'll begin the experiment today."

His assistant had quickly stood up and positioned himself behind the doctor.

Tsuzuki kept an impassive gaze at Muraki, and didn't say anything.

"Your blood and DNA pattern are normal," Muraki said, glancing at a folder in his hand. "Your body cells, too, have the typical structure of human cells. However, they seem to exhibit unusual activities other than the normal functions."

_Just find a way to kill me, and that'll be enough_, Tsuzuki thought stoically. He noticed the boy shuddering a little, and frowned. _Did he…_

"We'll start by monitoring how the cells behave under your current condition," Muraki continued. "Based on the fact that you haven't taken anything since the last time you're awake, nine days ago—"

His assistant winced at this. Tsuzuki noticed it, and unfortunately, so did Muraki.

"What is it, boy?" he asked sternly.

Then he saw the glass of water on the table. "You gave him water?"

"Y-yes, Master. Since you said to take care of him, I thought—"

He squeaked as Muraki caught his chin in a violent grip. His thin hands flailed in a vain attempt to escape.

"You will do only what I tell you to," the doctor said, his cold tone in itself a threat enough. "I left you on your own for just one night… and you seem to have forgotten that."

"I'm sorry," the boy gasped painfully. Color drained from his face. "I will make sure... next time…"

Muraki let go of him in a harsh jerk. He staggered backwards, but quickly recovered his balance.

Tsuzuki watched all this, unusually focused.

__

_All that threat for a few drops of drink?_

The boy's tremble spoke of anticipation for more severe punishment later, and he couldn't help but pity him. The doctor knew the boy feared him, and was making full use of that fact.

The fearful green eyes glanced at him, and again he felt the strange impression that he could read his own emotions in those eyes.

"If that is the case, then, we'll observe how the intake affects the cells' activity," the doctor said, his scowl vanished in an instant as he turned to his patient. "Could you open your mouth, Tsuzuki-san? I'm going to take a sample."

.

.

"How do you feel?" asked a timid voice.

This was the third time he opened his eyes to find that lean face in front of him.

__

_How did he know I was awake, anyway?_

"Just fine."

In fact, he was exhausted, but didn't bother to acknowledge it. The experiment had taken all day, which had consisted of ridiculous exercises, blood and cells being taken from various parts of his body, and a whole lot of questions that he'd answered half-heartedly. He'd fallen asleep as soon as the doctor had called it a day.

Now it was morning again.

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_But it doesn't mean anything. My time has stopped in my past._

A hesitant hand came up to his face with a wet towel. It gently brushed over his skin, leaving cool freshness on its trail.

Tsuzuki looked past the hand's ministrations to the boy's face, took in his near-worried expression, his nervous green eyes.

Different nurses had taken care of him during his stay in the hospital, and he had grown familiar to their treatment towards him. It had always been compassionate concern, sometimes pity, with a layer of apprehension because they'd known about his unnatural body. Exactly what the young assistant must've been feeling at this moment.

Yet he felt there was something more, all in those reticent eyes. The boy had been looking at him as though he really understood what Tsuzuki was feeling.

Could anyone possibly understand? Unless they bear the same weight of his past, the same amount of guilt and self-loathing…

The curiosity he felt made him wonder at himself. He had ceased to care about anything so long ago. Now the mere presence of this boy stirred up all kinds of emotion he thought were already frozen for good.

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_Who could he be, this young boy?_

The hand stopped, and was hastily pulled back. The owner's face paled as he put the towel and basin back on the table with slightly trembling hands.

Tsuzuki couldn't contain the mystery any longer. He grabbed the boy's hand. "You…"

With a startled cry the boy pulled away. Tsuzuki stared at him in surprise.

____

_Bruises._

"I'm sorry," he apologized hastily.

"It's not—" the boy started, then, "It's nothing."

"… He beat you for giving me water?"

"I-It's not that." And his pale face turned red, as though ashamed.

_What else could have happened to him? _And Tsuzuki remembered the doctor's words: _"I left you on your own for just one night…"_

______

_He'd been beating him every night?_

"…My master, he… he's not a bad person, really. As long as I don't make him angry."

_Why would he defend that doctor when he's treated that badly?_ Tsuzuki wondered.

He sensed an inner struggle in the way the boy fidgeted, in the stolen glances he directed at him. Then he seemed to give up.

"I'm also… n-not normal, Tsuzuki-san," he pronounced that word with difficulty. "You see, I… I can read your emotions."

_So that's it, the feeling that he sensed my thoughts..._ "You're also… one of his research subjects?"

"…Yeah." Those eyes were avoiding him. "But after he found out about you, he stopped his research on me and… and spent his time on your case. Besides his regular medical duties, I mean."

Tsuzuki wondered if that unreadable emotion was jealousy or relief. For his case, Muraki had been perfectly polite during the experiment; but with how he'd seen the doctor treated his assistant, the experiments this boy had couldn't be anything but painful. And yet he had defended him.

"Because of my strange ability… people are afraid of me. Only Master would take me in. Only he doesn't push me away."

Tsuzuki could almost understand that feeling. He'd been running away from his existence because nobody would accept him. Including himself.

_But those bruises._

The boy read that thought, of course. "That is nothing serious. I'm used to it. Just now I pulled away not because it hurt… but because your emotion became too strong for me when we touched."

_Is that all?_ But Tsuzuki decided to spare the boy further anxiety, and asked no more.

Directing his gaze to the ceiling, he allowed himself to contemplate this new fact.

_So… he is another one with unearthly power. That explains why he seems to… sympathize… with me._

He closed his eyes in resignation. _But we're not the same. He doesn't deserve all this suffering. I deserve to die._

"Um… Tsuzuki-san?"

Reminded of the other's presence in the room, Tsuzuki turned his face back to the young assistant.

"May I ask why… you tried to suicide?"

Tsuzuki was rather taken aback by this direct question. For a moment he just stared at the boy, who cringed under his glare.

"I'm sorry! You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just…"

Tsuzuki closed his eyes, trying to tell him that it didn't matter.

The boy fell quiet, his head bowed.

After a long silence, Tsuzuki spoke.

"You've seen my eyes."

His head snapped up. He obviously had not expected that Tsuzuki would answer.

"And you know about this body."

The boy nodded slowly.

Tsuzuki turned his gaze once more towards the window. "It will be better if I die."

"Why?" The boy unconsciously reduced his voice to a whisper. The conversation felt almost sacred to him.

"…I've done horrible things."

_The eyes of a demon. The power of a monster._

"But I don't sense any of that," the boy whispered.

Tsuzuki looked at him, puzzled.

"The dream you had," the boy said with guilt in his voice. "I sensed them. But that was past. Presently, I don't think… I don't feel that you're... a horrible person."

A strange feeling came to Tsuzuki. He was tempted to believe that, the words of the only person that didn't think of him as a damnable creature.

_The only person, by the way. One against the world._

He crushed the hope that was ready to blossom. _Not that again. Haven't you learned?_

A momentary loathing overcame him. He turned to the boy.

"Well… do you sense anything around _the doctor_?"

He had said it flatly, but the boy would undoubtedly pick up the sarcasm he'd meant.

Predictably, the boy fell silent. He lowered his head, and didn't attempt to speak any more.

It was quite a miserable sight, and Tsuzuki sighed as he felt his sympathy for the boy return.

"But you needn't worry. I won't try to kill myself when you might be blamed."

The boy didn't reply. He lowered his head even more, letting his bangs hide his face from Tsuzuki.

Then Tsuzuki saw the white knuckles of the fingers grasping the edge of the book, failing miserably to still the shaking of those hands.

"What is it?" he demanded.

The clutch grew more desperate, but the boy still didn't response.

Now guilt assaulted Tsuzuki in full force, and he regretted his harsh comment earlier.

"Hey," he called softly.

Perhaps his feelings were what went through to the boy after all, because he saw the shaking subside, the tension lessen.

He thought the boy had been crying, but as he spoke, his voice was clear, though he still refused to look at Tsuzuki.

"I just thought that perhaps… perhaps there is hope after all, now that I know I'm not the only one with this _anomaly_."

There was bitterness in every word, and Tsuzuki knew now that this boy shared every bit of anguish that the world had imposed on himself.

"How insolent of me… to think that we might deserve the right to… live."

And Tsuzuki, having no answer to that, could only turn away.

.

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	3. The Name

_Author Notes:_

Thanks so much for each of your encouragement notes, they mean a lot to me… =) I'm sorry that this one takes so long. Well, this comes with a sidestory, which I hope can make up for the delay. ^^;

Also thanks to **_klyukaizer_ **for reviewing "Nights Like This". (Hope you're reading this…) Um, I didn't plan a sequel to that one – which is why I insert my reply here instead – but I'm open to suggestions. Just email me. =)

I've decided to have my own way with Tsuzuki's past, power, and physical condition. I'm someone who's a bit too concerned with the canon despite this being an AU… but I've violated a number of facts in the canon in favor of the plot, and it's likely I'll violate more... so please forgive all the discrepancies. -_-

_Italics_ are thoughts and flashbacks.

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**A Wing Short of Flying**

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_Someday all you'll have to light the way will be a single ray of hope— and that will be enough._

**_- Kobi Yamada_**

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Chapter Two: The Name

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The opportunity presented itself several days later.

Muraki was on the microscope, examining a cell, occasionally asking his assistant to get him one of the lab equipments from the table.

"Interesting," he muttered to himself without taking his eyes off the lens. The boy was standing close to him, holding a tray of colorful liquids in small dishes. So Tsuzuki reached quietly towards the table.

It was the boy who saw it first.

"Tsuzuki-san!" He yelped, almost flipping the tray he was holding.

Muraki turned instantly, snatched the container from Tsuzuki's hands. Almost half of the liquid originally there had downed Tsuzuki's throat.

"Tsuzuki-san! This is acid, for goodness' sake! Water, boy, give him water! Quick!"

They spent the next few minutes forcing him to drink lots and lots of water. Tsuzuki resisted as much as he could, but there was little he could do with his stiff muscles.

At length they settled down, Muraki wearing a disapproving scowl, the boy pale from all the frenzy but with his eyes guarding Tsuzuki so vehemently he would've thought they never had to blink.

_Let us see how **that** affects my cell activity_, Tsuzuki thought wryly. His mouth and throat were burning, his stomach felt awful, and a legion of ants was crawling all over his insides. _Will the damage be enough?_

"Tsuzuki-san, please don't do such things again," Muraki said. Tsuzuki could hear controlled anger in his voice. "You must know that this is a very important research that can help us unravel the mystery of life and death…"

_Death_, Tsuzuki agreed, and ignored the rest of the statement.

The boy was looking at him sadly.

_You're wasting your sympathy_, Tsuzuki wanted to tell him. He really was sympathizing too much. His unassuming concern grated on Tsuzuki's apathy, and he realized well enough that he'd resorted to sarcasm to keep his resolution – to die – from wavering.

Muraki had stopped lecturing him, and started to examine the extent of the damage the acid had caused. Peeking through a lens into Tsuzuki's mouth, he paused in awe.

"Amazing," he breathed. "Already the cells are recovering. – From hydrofluoric acid, no less! – Burnt, spoilt, but functioning. You can see the fibers start to… You see, Tsuzuki-san? You are a very valuable subject."

_Valuable? What do you know of what I am, Doctor?_

With an impulse, the boy reached towards Tsuzuki, as if wanting to touch the damaged tissue that the doctor mentioned. He pulled back hastily as his master glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

Tsuzuki read pain in his green eyes, part of them his own. _He probably feels these physical aches as well. What a curious ability…_

"Master… shouldn't we give him neutralizer or something?"

It was spoken with that typical apprehensive tone of his. But Tsuzuki had been under the impression that the boy wouldn't venture a word to the doctor unless asked, and thus couldn't but admire the amount of bravery put into that sentence.

Muraki frowned, regarded his assistant with a measuring gaze.

There were undoubtedly some thoughts passing between those two, because the boy just cringed away before any more word was spoken. He quickly busied himself rearranging the equipments that were toppled over during their frantic rescue earlier.

"No," Muraki said slowly, his answer directed to Tsuzuki instead. "As upsetting as this incident is, it's an excellent opportunity to see the cells work their miracles."

Tsuzuki was sick of the cells' miracles.

He let his tongue be scraped for more cell samples, his mouth explored with a spatula. He answered all the doctor's questions, complied when asked to move a hand or bend a knee, and was generally being an obedient subject for the rest of the day.

Only the promise he refused to give, that he wouldn't try to kill himself again.

.

.

"Don't you ever sleep?"

He gave in to curiosity at last, and asked that question.

The pair of green eyes was clearly showing every sign of fatigue. "I can't risk that, Tsuzuki-san," he answered simply.

"I've said I won't try to kill myself when the doctor is not around."

A pause. "I don't know if I can trust that. Unless Master gives you a sedative as he did last night, I'm told to watch you all the time."

They were gradually settling into a routine. Every morning, Tsuzuki woke up to find the boy reading beside him. He was always reading. He would put down his book and help Tsuzuki to wash up. If Muraki didn't have a working shift, there would be experiments, with the boy present. The experiments would last until sunset. Then Muraki would watch over Tsuzuki while the boy disappeared for around one hour, to prepare dinner. Sometimes Tsuzuki would eat, sometimes he wouldn't. Then he would sleep if he felt like it. At occasions the doctor would give him a sedative. They were the only times that, Tsuzuki imagined, the boy went to sleep.

During Muraki's working days, that young boy never left the lab until the doctor was back from work and took his place for that one hour he needed to cook. He spent his time cleaning the place, maintaining the apparatus, and reading. He kept some food inside the room so he wouldn't have to leave for lunch. Even the washroom was conveniently adjoined to this room.

They never talked much, not since their last upsetting conversation. Tsuzuki was growing accustomed to his silent presence around him. His companion, on his part, had shed much of his nervousness.

Presently, Tsuzuki watched him as he went back to his reading. It was a book he'd just started on this morning.

"What are you reading?"

The boy looked up.

"'The Workings of the Mind'," he answered, and showed Tsuzuki the cover of the book. "This is one of the references Master used when he was researching on my empathic ability."

"…Oh."

"I want to learn more for myself," he added, almost shyly. "You know… things like, why I have this kind of power, what makes the difference…"

Tsuzuki nodded. After a few weeks without another opportunity to destroy himself, even he was getting mildly curious as to what the experiment would reveal— what made the difference.

"Also, it was encouraging to know that there are other people with similar abilities… and that some of them can live almost like normal people."

Tsuzuki looked at him for a long time as the words sank in. _Live like normal people…_

"Then… do you find a way… to live like those others, in those books?"

"They said… to start, I need to recognize the nature of this ability. Then I can work on controlling it. Once I succeed, I can suppress it whenever I want, and… well, live normally."

"…Sounds easy, huh," Tsuzuki commented. _What is it that keeps the sparks of hope in those eyes? Or is it I who has given up too easily?_

"It takes practice," the boy said with less conviction, no doubt catching Tsuzuki's disbelief. "And the techniques may differ from one person to another."

"That's what they said?"

He nodded. "I… haven't found out how to control my empathy yet. I don't know if that really works."

They were silent again as the topic was dropped.

"I… I've been thinking about what you said last time," the boy started after some time.

Tsuzuki turned to him, saw the troubled expression on his face.

"You and I are not the same," Tsuzuki said. "I've burnt my chances. You, at least, are still willing to try."

"… You can't control your power at all?"

Tsuzuki let out a bitter laugh. "It controls me."

The young boy looked thoughtful. "Perhaps… you shouldn't resist it."

He then sputtered as Tsuzuki looked at him strangely, seemingly embarrassed to have tried to advice someone almost twice his age.

"W-what I mean is… this empathy… I still can't control it, but I've managed to live with it for years now. Whatever emotions it tells me, I just let it be. It really hurts less… and gives me less trouble."

"You're saying… I should just let it all out?" Tsuzuki found the idea almost irrational. "I restrained it with all my strength and still I—"

He stopped himself in time. The boy waited, but Tsuzuki was not about to talk any more.

They watched a bird as it landed on the window sill, poked the glass with its beak, then flew away. The quietness of the moment, however, was far from peaceful.

"…It was the people, wasn't it?" the boy said softly.

Tsuzuki drew a deep breath. Memories raced across his mind, a howling storm he couldn't tame.

"…Yes," he replied slowly. "It was the people. What could we do when they wouldn't accept us?"

"Nothing," a sad voice answered. He was seeing the same memories.

"…Nothing," Tsuzuki echoed. He suddenly felt very tired. _Why have I expected him to say otherwise?_

"But living and being accepted are two different things," the boy said slowly. "We don't need anyone's permission to live."

It sounded like a vengeance.

"What is the point in living when everybody wants me dead?"

"But Tsuzuki-san, I…I want you to live."

Tsuzuki stared. "Why would you?"

He played with his fingers, embarrassed. "You're someone like me."

"No, I'm not. Haven't you seen my dreams? This power can destroy lives."

"But you won't do that."

"I certainly cannot prevent it from doing that."

"Work on it, then."

"It's easy for you to say. You, with your hypothetical books!"

"It's not easy, but I'm trying!"

"Trying? You're no different than me. You're hiding from the rest of the world."

The boy seemed shocked at this, and Tsuzuki was surprised to realize that their conversation had become so heated. And this was the same boy who rarely talked at all when his master was present. This matter must be a very sensitive issue to him.

"This is the only place where I can stay," the teen said stiffly. "He accepts me. So, I live."

"Being beaten at the slightest mistake is not what I'll call acceptance."

Tsuzuki wondered at his own motive to have said that. Not liking the way this boy was dissuading him from killing himself was one thing, but reminding his companion of his pathetic life was inexcusably cruel.

"I'm just not strong enough to leave this place," the boy turned away, resenting having to acknowledge that.

"If you're strong enough to bear his hurting you, how is it that you're not strong enough to live on your own?"

The young boy stared at the wall, not answering. Silence stretched in the air already heavy with bitterness.

Then, unexpectedly, he said, "I tried to escape once."

Tsuzuki turned to him with surprise.

"It was the first month after I came to live with Master. I was only seven years old at that time."

"How did you meet him?" Tsuzuki asked.

He hesitated for a while. "My parents called him in to cure my abnormality. He told them it was actually an empathic ability, and he would like to research on it. Since my parents… disliked my ability, they agreed to let him take me."

_They sold him_, Tsuzuki realized with a pang of sympathy.

The boy fidgeted, trying to ignore Tsuzuki's thought. "I missed my parents terribly after a month, and Master was very strict with me. One day when he was at work, I ran away from here and went back home."

His eyes absently followed the leaves swirling in the wind outside the window.

"My mother was surprised, but she was glad. I lied that Master had managed to cure my abnormality. I pretended quite well, too." He swallowed, apparently getting to the difficult part of the story. "But then my father came out, and he was a very skeptical person. Finally he found out that I had lied, and… chased me away."

Tsuzuki thought back to the nights he spent wishing that his parents were with him, comforting him when others had been cruel to him. Perhaps it had been for the better that he'd lost them as a child. At least that way he'd never had to face his own parents' rejection.

"Then…?" he prompted, as the boy seemed lost in his thoughts.

"I went to a nearby shop, wanting to stay there for the night. But the owner knew who I was. The word had spread that I was cursed with demon powers. He barked at me to go away, and others started to gather around us, supporting him. Now that I think about it, maybe they were all afraid of me, but it was I who was scared at that time."

_Exactly_, Tsuzuki thought. He shuddered at the momentary _oneness_, the strange feeling that he was sharing the experience the boy was telling.

"Then Master came. I don't know how he found me. At that time the crowd was much more frightening to me, and their emotions almost drove me out of my mind. So I… I let him take me back. And I never wanted to escape again since then."

He had skipped a great deal of details, Tsuzuki knew.

"If it is so painful to live…" Tsuzuki didn't finish the sentence. Though he himself wanted to die, far be it from him to suggest it to another person.

The youth pursed his lips. "Because there still remains a way to… stay alive." He then frowned at that extremely linear reasoning. "But sometimes I wonder if I'm just being stubborn."

Tsuzuki suddenly felt ashamed at his own lack of will.

"You know… you're wrong."

"Huh?" the boy looked at him questioningly.

"You _are_ strong."

The green eyes widened slightly, and Tsuzuki noticed that unlike his violet ones, they had not lost their brightness.

"…Not yet, I think. But I…I'm glad you think so."

Now that the subject of living and acceptance had passed, he was back to his usual self, timid and reserved. But Tsuzuki suspected that the determined character he'd just displayed was the real self.

Then Tsuzuki realized that for all the time they had spent together in this room, he had never known the boy's name.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The boy looked genuinely surprised. "M-my name?"

"Yes. I've never heard the doctor call your name."

He stared at Tsuzuki, his eyes unreadable.

"What's the matter? You… know your name, right? Your parents…"

"… Hi…soka."

Tsuzuki saw the ripple of emotions across his face, and suddenly understood. No one had bothered to ask this boy before.

"Kurosaki… Hisoka."

Something as simple as a name, an acknowledgement of his place in this world.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki repeated. The boy nodded shyly. It had probably been years since he heard somebody else say his name.

Tsuzuki contemplated the ceiling. "It was… a sad name."

_Secret._

But even as he said it there was a twinkle in his eyes, the violet orbs that hadn't shone for years.

_The world doesn't know what it is missing here._

The boy read perfectly what he meant.

"… I suppose so," he said, and for the first time since they met, Tsuzuki saw him smile.

.

..

* * *

_Author Notes:_

Well… perhaps I'm being too dramatic over 'something as simple as a name'? I endured three chapters referring to him only as 'the boy' for the sake of this scene. ^_^0 Anyway, it's because ideas for a fic usually occur to me in the form of *detailed* fragments, and they are the ones that contain the messages I want to put across. This scene is one of them.

The book Hisoka read in this chapter is fictitious. If any book happens to have the same title, it is most definitely not the same book. =P


	4. The Untold

_Author Notes:_

This is the full story of Hisoka's escape that he related to Tsuzuki in Chapter Two. All the way Hisoka-angst. =P This is a sidestory, in Hisoka's POV, with which I intend to justify Hisoka's attachment to Muraki. It helps in understanding the characterization, but you should still be able to follow the main plot even if you decide to skip this.

A note on the POV: Though the whole fic is in a third person's perspective, it is basically in Tsuzuki's POV. You'll notice that all thoughts are Tsuzuki's, and the events are all as Tsuzuki sees them. I constructed this sidestory in Hisoka's POV to describe the full events of the escape attempt, because Hisoka didn't tell Tsuzuki everything.

_Italics_ are thoughts.

**

* * *

**

**A Wing Short of Flying**

..

_It is such a secret place, the land of tears. _

**_- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, "The Little Prince"_**

__

..

Sidestory One: The Untold

__

..

.

_Now._

He crept carefully even though he knew his master had left the house. Nothing was to be risked.

He didn't bring much when he first came. Now he took exactly the same things with him. It helped that they were light on his bruised shoulders.

He doubled his care once he was outside. The house was quite isolated, but there were still people passing by from time to time. They had never seen him outside the house, so either he would be mistaken as a thief or they would know something was wrong, and the doctor would be contacted.

He reached the main road, and began to run.

It hurt terribly even when he walked slowly. But he ran and ran, not bothering that his torn shoes no longer protected his feet from the hot, rough surface.

The doctor was a clever man. He could track him in no time once he found out that the experiment subject had escaped.

People were staring at this little boy who was running all the way as if he was being chased by an invisible train. But that didn't bother him as much as his own frustration when he stumbled into dead ends for more than once. Every wrong turn cost him time, and he could barely afford time.

Finally, after he had shed his useless shoes, drank all the water he brought, and the sun had long declined from its peak, he saw the road sign that announced the entrance to his home village. A sense of small victory engulfed him. _I'm home!_

He had not been allowed out of his house often, and the few times were not more than two blocks away. Therefore it was pretty much as difficult to find his way home as it was to find his way here from the doctor's place.

But the knowledge that he was getting nearer to home was a great motivation.

The village roads were much simpler, and gave him little trouble. But they were more crowded, filled with people who were more suspicious at the sight of a stranger. It was a small village, and most residents knew each other. As disconcerting as the whispers were, he could ignore them, but not the curiosity and suspicions which were grating his mind. On top of that, he could read that some of them had correctly associated the seemingly lost boy with the demon-possessed son of the Kurosaki family who was sent away from the village a month ago.

Fear was the emotion he found most difficult to take. He had received it much too often from beloved ones.

He slowed his steps as he saw the big building that was his parents' home. His home.

He sprinted round the corner, past the row of iron bars fencing the large area of the Kurosaki house. He recalled the entrance to the cellar just behind that tree, the one place he remembered most clearly. It was where he'd lived for the last two years before the doctor took him away. It was where his nightmares began.

He reached the gate all heaving and sweating, found it secured with chains and a strong lock as usual. He rattled the chains against the metal bars, announcing his presence, and waited anxiously at the gate.

The maid gaped when she saw him, and ran back inside. Minutes later, his mother hurried through the front door.

"Hisoka?" she called, totally astonished. He could still feel her fear.

"I'm cured, Mother," he lied. "I'm fine now. The doctor cured me."

_"This is not a sickness, but a psychic ability,"_ the doctor had said. But to his parents it was a sickness; it was a curse. So he'd follow along.

Her mother hesitated, then gestured to the maid to unlock the gate.

Hisoka ran to her, and hugged her tightly before she could decide what to do. He ignored the fear that he sensed from her.

It subsided slowly, and she hugged him back. He'd never felt so happy.

"How is it that you're back here?" The stern voice startled him.

His mother untangled his hold on her, and turned to her husband. "He is cured," she told him, "the doctor cured him."

"Father," Hisoka greeted him, trying valiantly not to tremble.

Suspicion hung heavily around the man. "Is that true?"

"Yes, Father," he summoned his most convincing tone.

Kurosaki Nagare stepped towards his son, gripped the boy's right arm in one swift motion. Hisoka choked on his own breath.

"You shouldn't feel anything, should you?"

Hisoka found that he couldn't answer. His head was pounding from the rushing fury coming from his father. _Too close… too close…_

He tried to pull away, but the grip was strong.

"What's the matter?" his father barked.

Hisoka twitched uncontrollably, pressing his free hand on his mouth to stop himself from crying out loud.

"You dare lie to me, you cursed child!"

He was grateful for the breaking of the contact even as he was shoved to the ground. He vaguely heard his mother's startled shriek.

"Why did that Muraki let you on the loose? Did he want money after all?"

His head snapped up, and he stared at his father. Only then he knew that he had not been sent for treatment. Nor had he been sold. The scientist wanted him as an experiment subject— he didn't ask them for fees. His parents wanted to get rid of him— they let the doctor have him for free.

_To get rid of…_

It had been a curious feeling then. He felt his chest go all cold, and the inside started to freeze.

"Stand up and get away from here! We can't let a cursed creature enter this house!"

"Is… is there really nothing we can do?" His mother's pleading voice, at least, stroke a warmth through his heart, for one brief moment.

"If even that doctor abandons him, then he is hopeless," Nagare grunted. "I wonder if I should kill him myself."

"No!" His mother cried out.

He pushed himself up. _Killing me would be a mercy_, he thought. _Yes… please kill me, Father._

He stood quietly, waiting expectantly for the blow.

His father's eyes met his, green on green. Nagare drew a sharp breath.

"Don't!" His mother latched onto his husband's arm. Hisoka looked at her, almost pitying. _I'm sorry, Mother._

Nagare glared at his wife disapprovingly, but drew back his raised arm in the end.

"There can't be anything good coming from this," he growled. "Just leave this place!"

Hisoka turned back to his father, his eyes pleading for the kill. But he should've known that just like all his pleas before that day, it would be ignored. Instead, his father dragged him by the shoulders across the yard and shoved him outside the gate.

The gate was slammed shut, chains rattled to secure it.

"Don't ever open this gate for that cursed child again," his father warned the maid, who nodded frightfully. He put his arms around his wife, forced her gaze away from their son, and marched inside the house.

Hisoka watched the front door to the house closed, heard his mother's sobs fading away. For a moment he just stoned there, sitting on the ground, his fingers grasping at the dirt.

_What should I do now? Where can I go?_

He could stay there, of course, and perhaps he would anger his father enough to grant him his death.

_"Is there really nothing we can do?"_

_Mother…_

_"…he is hopeless."_

_Am I…?_

The doctor was not going to cure his abnormality. He wanted it to last, so he could study it. Who, then, could help him?

He forced himself up, and wandered aimlessly around the house.

_Why, even the cellar would be fine for me…if you'd let me stay, Father…_

The sun was nearing the horizon, twilight sweeping across the land. He moved away from the shadows. He didn't want to be trapped in the darkness. His demons delighted in the darkness.

He stopped in front of a bookshop, the one his mother once brought him to. It was just about to close for the day, but it had left the outer lights on. He sat down on the pavement, and only then felt the sting on the sole of his feet.

"Hey, you! What are you doing there?"

He turned and saw the man who had shouted at him, standing at the shop entrance, his hands on the half-pulled blinds.

"Don't beg outside my store! Find somewhere else!"

"C-can I stay here, just for the night?"

"Hell no!" He shouted.

"A tramp? How strange. We've never had tramps and beggars around here." A woman voiced from inside the store. "Be careful, husband. I heard from Shimizu-san that her brother saw someone who looked just like that cursed Kurosaki boy on the street today."

The man's eyes widened. "You— you must be… that!"

He picked up a wooden stick that he kept near the door, and swung it threateningly.

"Go away!" He yelled. "Stay away from our village, you demon!"

Frightened, Hisoka backed away from him, stepped onto the street.

"What happened, Hojou-san?"

"What's all that noise?"

Neighbors started to gather around the man, the one they called Hojou-san.

_More fear. Choking…suffocating…_

Under the glimmering light, their eyes flashed at him like the demons he imagined to be living with him in the cellar. The demons who whispered inside his head all the time.

"No… no," he squeaked in fear. _Leave me alone!_

"Leave!" they shouted. "Leave!"

_Where should I go?_

The angry demands clogged his brain, hot and cold at the same time, spinning, pressing in, pushing out… His head felt like shrinking, but also about to explode; his body was so heavy but it was floating. He couldn't tell anymore if his senses were feeling or not feeling.

They dared not touch him, but managed to back him towards the entrance of the village. He stumbled, and felt his back hitting someone's legs.

He looked up, and the person looked down on him.

"M-master," he breathed. _He found me!_

The crowd stopped advancing, and studied the newcomer suspiciously.

Muraki turned his eyes from the boy to the crowd, meeting their stares with his usual calmness.

Hisoka inched away, preparing to run.

He didn't expect the first blow. The doctor's hand hit him hard across the face, and he fell back to the ground, his nose bleeding.

The next moment he could only crouch in fear, protecting his head in his small arms as the assault seemed to come from all directions.

"I'm sorry!" he cried. "I'm sorry! I won't run away again!"

The pace of the beating slowed down. Hisoka found his master's pant legs, clung to them.

"Forgive… me," he managed in between sobs. He couldn't recognize his own voice that slipped through the choking blood. "Please… take me… back…"

It was most humiliating, but he had learnt bitterly what it meant to live outside the lab or the cellar.

"That will teach you," Muraki said, his face emotionless. He pulled the collar of Hisoka's shirt, forcing him to stand up.

The trembling boy scrambled to his feet, ignoring the cry of his tormented flesh.

"Let's go." The doctor turned to leave the village.

The crowd dissolved behind them. The empathic assault died down, and he found his breath again.

He staggered limply behind Muraki. In the falling darkness, he kept his eyes on the doctor's white coat, letting it lead him back to the lab. With no direction to follow, one way was as good as another.

The doctor never once looked back to check if he was still there. At the first sight of the crowd and the expression on his face, his master had surely known that he wouldn't dare attempt another escape. The lashing was just a show for the village, to assure them that the demon was under control.

How could he ever escape again? He had no place to go.

He was aware of the lack of sadness, the absence of tears in the back of his eyes.

_There's only one place where I can stay._

Not a nice place, maybe, but it wasn't as if he had any other choice.

Only one person would understand this abnormality, would accept this monster.

He had even come for him.

For once, someone wanted him to be alive. It felt like he could finally defy all those who had rejected him, and say: "See? There is a meaning to my existence!"

Twisted as that meaning might be.

He would even bear all the hurting. Pain was something he was getting accustomed to, after all.

He could only die once. He could choose it anytime.

_Just for the meantime… I'll stay alive. Just while there's still a place for me._

The cold feeling in his chest still hadn't gone away.

.

..

* * *

_Author Notes:_

I badly need feedback for this part. Honestly, does anyone think it unnecessarily, mindlessly, overly angsty? I've indulged in too much Hisoka-angst that I doubt I can still be objective. =(


	5. The Wing

_Author Notes:_

Thanks to my faithful reviewers and everybody who's reading. I'm glad you're still enjoying this. =)

_Italics_ are thoughts and flashbacks.

**

* * *

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**A Wing Short of Flying**

..

_The secret of happiness is to face the fact that the world is horrible, horrible, horrible._

**_- Bertrand Russell_**

____

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Chapter Three: The Wing

..

.

"You've been more conversational lately, Tsuzuki-san. I'm glad."

He turned to Muraki, who was watching over him while his assistant was preparing dinner.

'More conversational', as far as the doctor was concerned, referred to having responded to him outside of the experiment, as compared to his initial silence. Tsuzuki didn't like him, but had no real reason to hate him either.

"Is my body really indestructible?" he asked. Might as well be actually conversational.

"I am ready to conclude that, yes," Muraki answered. "Of course, as with all matters in the universe, there must be a limit to your body's endurance. But it might just be that this limit is practically unreachable."

Tsuzuki contemplated this answer.

Muraki studied him intently. "Tsuzuki-san, you're not planning another suicide, are you?"

_"I want you to live."_

"Hm." Tsuzuki turned away, refusing to answer.

"There are rumors in the hospital that something horrible has happened to you in the past. Is that true?"

"Happened to me?" Tsuzuki shook his head slowly. His mind replayed the scene as his psychic power had lashed out of control: the blinding light, the screeching explosion, the pool of blood. All those had happened _because of_ him.

"What do you mean, Tsuzuki-san?"

"…I don't want to talk about it."

Muraki smiled gently. "It's all right. Those are the past."

_Just like what the boy…Hisoka said_, Tsuzuki thought.

In truth, his nightmares had become less disturbing lately. In the past, his recollections had always been those of the reproaching glares, hateful to the last, as he blasted the owners to death. There were only hatred and guilt and little details of anything else.

Now, he remembered that incident in a more realistic way. Not that it made the memories any more comfortable… but it was an improvement he could feel. He had begun to accept his past as a fact.

"Tsuzuki-san, your special trait is not something you should feel guilty about," Muraki said. "I don't know enough of your past to say anything, but suicide is a meaningless action no matter the reason. You can't do anything once you're dead."

Tsuzuki smiled ironically.

"That is exactly why I'd better be dead," he said. "But death just doesn't come easy to me, does it."

Muraki considered this for a while. The smart doctor could try all he might to deduce what had actually happened in Tsuzuki's past, but he wouldn't have a clue about his patient's dark power. _I'll be damned if he ever suspects it_, Tsuzuki thought warily. _There's no way I'd ever want to touch that energy again, let alone for his damned experiments._

"It's really not your fault that you're different from others," Muraki said after some time. "Well, if people out there are too stubborn to understand that, Tsuzuki-san… here you are safe. I understand."

Tsuzuki had known that all along. It was not his fault that he was born with this power. But it was not the others' fault, either, that they were frightened of him. The terrible loneliness, the terrible awareness that his existence would only cause harm to other people— those had caused him to believe that his death was the best solution. And yet those feelings were gradually becoming more and more distant now, because a boy with sincere jade eyes had told him:

_"I want you to live."_

"Was that what you told Hisoka?" he asked Muraki, his tone neutral.

Muraki frowned at the mention of the name, but didn't comment on it. "He stays with me because he knows it, even though I never actually say it to him."

_Oh, but you did say that in other painful ways_, Tsuzuki thought, eyeing Muraki with distaste.

Meanwhile, Muraki rested his elbows on the bed, surveying Tsuzuki with interest. "You really sympathize with the boy, don't you, Tsuzuki-san."

_Was it jealousy in his voice?_ Tsuzuki wondered. He said, "He is quite attached to you, Doctor."

"Oh… I was not talking about him."

Tsuzuki looked at him questioningly. _Quite clearly they were talking about…_

But Muraki just smiled. "We should spend more time together," he said lightly.

That puzzled Tsuzuki more. But at that time Hisoka entered the room with their dinner, and they proceeded to eat in silence.

.

.

He couldn't find Hisoka when he woke.

"Good morning, Tsuzuki-san."

It was the doctor again.

"Hisoka…?" Tsuzuki asked.

"I sent him out to buy some things," Muraki said. "Did you sleep well?"

Tsuzuki shrugged. "I wouldn't know when the sedative was at work."

Muraki smiled. "Depending on… circumstances, you might not need to take them anymore."

"And what are the necessary circumstances?"

Muraki's smile grew evil in Tsuzuki's eyes. "When I've got what I want."

Tsuzuki suppressed a shudder, and turned to the window. "Don't you have work today?"

The doctor looked amused. "If I didn't know better, Tsuzuki-san, I would've thought you didn't want me here."

Tsuzuki ignored his reply. "The experiment, then?"

"Not for today," Muraki waved it aside. Tsuzuki found it strange that he didn't seem to be very concerned with his research anymore. Well, perhaps he'd collected all the data he needed.

Tsuzuki looked around the room for lack of better things to do. His eyes picked up Hisoka's book on the table, and he longed for the boy's presence. The room felt empty without him.

"Tsuzuki-san, how would you like a physical therapy?"

He turned back to Muraki. "Physical therapy?"

"Retraining your muscles so you can walk, move around, and do things as before."

"Why?" Tsuzuki asked suspiciously.

"Why?" Muraki was surprised. "Of course, to recover your body's condition. Don't you want to get well?"

"I mean, why would you? I thought it'd be easier for you to keep me in this state."

Muraki looked at him for a long minute, his eyes actually softened. "I didn't realize I was such a bad person in your opinion."

Tsuzuki regarded him carefully. He could never tell the extent of the doctor's sincerity.

"You certainly do not treat your assistant well," he said at length.

"Ah, is that it?" Muraki smiled again. "It was just a matter of discipline, Tsuzuki-san. And the boy himself doesn't object to my treatment, so you really don't have to be concerned about that. Now back to the subject of therapy…"

"You don't have to beat him."

Muraki paused, and leaned closer. "I rarely do."

At the disbelieving gaze Tsuzuki directed at him, he added, "It's the truth. But in any case, I don't think our relationship is a matter you should worry about."

It was a not-so-subtle way of telling Tsuzuki not to interfere. Tsuzuki huffed, and say no more.

"As for the physical therapy, I have no other motive than to ensure your well-being. I am a doctor, Tsuzuki-san, and I really care about you."

Tsuzuki contemplated this. _To be able to walk and move…_

Muraki was watching him, expecting his response. Tsuzuki preferred to observe the window pane. "Yes, I'd like to undergo a therapy."

"You do?" He could hear delight in the doctor's voice. "That is great. We can start right away, if you feel up to it."

_…To be able to protect Hisoka from this man._ "I'm fine with that."

"Very well." Muraki adjusted his chair closer to the bed. "First, try to sit up…"

Muraki was surprisingly gentle and patient. Tsuzuki decided that he was indeed worthy of his title as a doctor. Nevertheless, there was something about his touches that sprouted apprehension in Tsuzuki, an uneasy feeling he couldn't get rid of.

_If I feel this way, I wonder how Hisoka feels near him, with his empathy and all…_

"You're thinking of the boy again."

Tsuzuki startled.

Again Muraki smiled, and Tsuzuki couldn't comprehend how such a cheerful face could emit such a disconcerting aura. "You kept glancing at his book, Tsuzuki-san, and you didn't even hear when I asked you to flex your fingers."

Scowling at himself, Tsuzuki flexed his fingers for the doctor.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Boy?" Muraki asked.

"Yes, Master," came the reply from outside.

Muraki watched the change in Tsuzuki's expression.

"Did you get us lunch?" he directed the question to the door.

"I… will prepare it right away."

"Very good."

There were no more sounds coming through the door. A slight disappointment floated across Tsuzuki's gaze, and he stared down at his fingers, continuing to flex them. Open… close… open…

He noticed Muraki's smirk from the corner of his eyes. _He was playing us…?_

Close, open, close. He held the fist, studying the veins.

_When I'm stronger, I'll show him the proper way to treat us._

He was startled when Muraki's palm closed on top of his fist. He looked up to meet the doctor's eyes.

"Enough," Muraki said casually, brushing against his skin in a semblance of caress that made Tsuzuki want to pull away. "Now we'll work on the upper arm."

When finally another knock was heard, Tsuzuki couldn't contain a heave of relief. Hisoka entered, a tray of food on his hands.

"Lunch time," Muraki declared cheerfully. Tsuzuki almost shuddered. The whole good-natured countenance about the doctor seemed just wrong.

His gaze met Hisoka's for the first time that day, and his eyes smiled at him. The boy's face brightened up slightly.

Muraki insisted that he would feed Tsuzuki this time. As they ate, Tsuzuki watched Hisoka carefully. There were the usual dark circles around the boy's eyes, no doubt from the lack of sleep. There were also red marks around his neck, and blue-black bruises on his arms.

Noticing Tsuzuki's stare, Hisoka lowered his arms, trying futilely to hide the marks from Tsuzuki's view. Tsuzuki frowned at him, but upon receiving no response, averted the frown to Muraki.

_So much for your truth, Doctor_, he thought. He would've said it out loud was he not afraid that Hisoka would bear the consequences instead of him.

Muraki didn't seem to notice his glare, but knowing how perceptive the doctor actually was, Tsuzuki knew he had simply chosen to ignore it.

_When I'm stronger I'll…_

Hisoka looked up at him, pleading. Tsuzuki scowled.

_You should be the one who hate him more!_

The boy shook his head almost imperceptibly, and returned his attention to his plate.

Muraki attempted light conversations through the meal, to which Tsuzuki obligingly responded though his mind was fixed somewhere else. When they finally finished the food, Hisoka collected the utensils quietly and went out to wash them.

Once again the room was lonely.

For half an hour Muraki talked about gardening, types of insects, some interesting patients he'd encountered, and a handful of other random subjects. The therapy resumed after that. The exercises, at least, were something Tsuzuki could concentrate on, to distract himself from the irritation he felt at Muraki.

For some reason Hisoka didn't return until the sun fell and it was again time for a meal. Tsuzuki was near to rejoicing when Muraki finally left them alone at nightfall.

"What have you been doing?" he asked Hisoka. His book had been abandoned inside the room.

"I took a walk in the garden," Hisoka replied. All his tension during Muraki's presence was gone.

"He told you to do that?"

"No. I wanted to do that." He sounded a bit offended.

"…Good for you," Tsuzuki murmured.

The boy's gloom, as usual, was short-lived. "How about you, Tsuzuki-san?"

Tsuzuki looked into his eyes. "Just Tsuzuki, please. He called me Tsuzuki-san."

Hisoka went wide-eyed for a moment, torn between shyness and desperation at Tsuzuki's obvious dislike of his master.

"Tsuzuki," Tsuzuki repeated.

"…Tsu…zuki," the boy echoed, rather embarrassedly.

Tsuzuki let out a small laugh at the endearing sight, and the boy in turn was stunned at his first display of cheerfulness.

"He's giving me a physical therapy," Tsuzuki answered the earlier question, "so I can recover."

"That's… very good," Hisoka looked truly happy for him.

"Yes, it is."

"So… do you… ehm…"

"What is it?" Tsuzuki prompted.

"…Never mind."

Tsuzuki eyed him. "Hisoka, not everybody is an empath."

"Well, yeah. Thank goodness for that."

Now Tsuzuki was amused. This boy could be quite naughty if he set his mind on it. "What I mean is, you have to tell me what's on your mind."

Not to mention stubborn. "Some things are better left unsaid."

Annoyed, Tsuzuki pouted. A small smile manifested across the boy's features.

They sat in silence for a long time, Tsuzuki on his bed and Hisoka on his chair, content with one another's company.

"Tell me when you want to sleep," Hisoka said as the first night insect sounded outside the window. "I'll adjust your pillow."

"I'll manage," Tsuzuki said, and he did manage to lower himself to lie on his back. He felt a tinge of triumph, and knew from Hisoka's expression that the boy shared that feeling.

"Good night then," Hisoka said, smiling. He picked up his book, prepared to read through the night.

Tsuzuki frowned in disapproval.

"Hisoka," he said, "sleep."

"I don't—"

"You can die from sleep deprivation," he said firmly. "Don't argue with me. I stayed in the hospital for two years; I would know."

"But…"

Tsuzuki put his hand on Hisoka's arm, cutting off his words.

"Read my mind," he said. "I'm not going to kill myself, now or later."

Hisoka looked down at where their skins met. "You mean it," he said with wonder.

"Therefore, you don't need to watch over me all the time."

Tsuzuki knew he'd made the right decision as he saw the quiet joy in those green eyes.

"…Thank you, Tsuzuki-san."

"Tsuzuki," Tsuzuki corrected him.

"…Tsuzuki." Again his complexion was adorned by a slight blush that seemed to be the only indication of how much of a child he still was.

"And thank you, Hisoka."

The boy looked lost in contemplation.

"Is this what you wanted to ask me earlier?" Tsuzuki ventured.

"…Yeah."

"Why did you hesitate?"

"I… don't want to force you into that decision."

_"I want you to live."_

"I thank you for what you have done," Tsuzuki said sincerely, "and you should know that this decision is as much for myself as it is for you."

_**I **want to live._

"I'm glad," Hisoka said, though he really didn't need to say it aloud.

_Because you need me just as much as I need you._

"Now sleep," Tsuzuki commanded affectionately. "It's your turn to listen to me."

Hisoka nodded. "Good night."

"Good night."

Assured, the young boy fell asleep before long, leaning on the chair. Tsuzuki, on the other hand, stayed awake long after that. He watched the slumbering face beside him, admiring the innocence in the weathered features, savoring the peace that was rarely there.

When his own eyes finally closed down to sleep, it was not voluntary.

.

..

* * *

_Author Notes:_

Sleep deprivation, in extreme cases, may actually cause death. I just feel the need to point that out. =)


	6. The Fall

_Author Notes:_

Here are the yaoi implications I warned you about in the prologue. And uh, a nonconsensual one at that. Intense angst, emotional torture throughout. This is perhaps the darkest chapter in this fic. *wince*

_Italics_ are thoughts and flashbacks.

**

* * *

**

**A Wing Short of Flying**

..

_I love you, but you are all I know. Forgive me._

**_- October Project, "Ariel"_**

__

..

Chapter Four: The Fall

__

..

.

Tsuzuki awoke to the sound of the door being opened.

_Who, at this time…?_

In the dark, he heard footsteps approaching his bed. Then a curious rasping sound.

"M-master!" It was Hisoka's voice. _Muraki is here?_

"…Why were you sleeping? I told you to watch him."

The hushed voices became more distant as steps rattled away from his bed towards the other side of the room.

"He is asleep, and he won't…"

"I don't care what you think. You will not question my orders." A very cold tone.

"…Yes, Master. I'm sorry."

A rustle of clothes. Tsuzuki squinted. The room was too dark.

"…Master, what…"

A squeak, and the sound of something hitting the wooden floor. Tsuzuki tried hard to adjust his vision to the darkness.

"M-master, not here…"

"I will decide where we do this." More rustling of clothes.

"But he hadn't taken a sedative! He might wake up and hear…"

"Not if you keep quiet. Or do you want me to gag you?"

_Now wait a—_

"No!"

"Then just do as I say. Spread your legs."

_…What?_

"Master, we really can't…"

"You've been resisting me more and more lately. Do you think because you find someone _of your kind_, you could now be redeemed?"

"I never think of leaving you, really!"

A snicker. "Do not forget, boy. Now that I've found the perfect subject for my research, this is the only use you have left for me."

A choked sound.

"Did I tell you to cry?"

A stifled gasp, and then silence.

"Good." A mocking tone. "You can scream for me another time. Not tonight."

Tsuzuki's eyes were accustomed to the darkness now, and he could make out the shapes in the corner of the room.

The sight made his stomach churn.

Hisoka's eyes met his, as the boy had undoubtedly sensed his emotion. The eyes were wide with fear and shame, and Tsuzuki read a silent plea in them.

_Don't look, he said?_ Tsuzuki clenched his fists under the blanket. _How does he expect me to turn away from **that**?!_

He saw Muraki swung a hand, and heard a slap.

"Where were you looking?"

"M…master… can we just… go to your room, please…?"

The trembling form was pushed down with force.

"I told you not to leave this room. We would want to know if Tsuzuki-san suddenly decided to take his own life again, wouldn't we?"

Tsuzuki recalled the bruises on Hisoka's hands. Now he knew what caused them.

This was far worse than the beating he thought it was.

Tsuzuki made a move to get up. But his muscles were stiff as wood.

_Stupid limbs! Move!_

He could kill Muraki, he knew he could. With all his unearthly power he could tear him to parts and burn the remains to ashes.

Hisoka stole a glance at him again, a frightened one, before he suddenly gasped in pain, his back arched in a jerked motion.

Tsuzuki could barely bear the sight. Hisoka's eyes were brimming with tears he dared not shed, but still they pleaded to him in despair: _look away, just look away…_

He managed to shift his leg off the edge of the bed. _I couldn't care less what he—_

_—Please don't hurt him…—_

Tsuzuki froze. _What was that?_

_—Don't come over… Don't hurt him…Please…—_

Tsuzuki pressed hard on his forehead. _He was talking in my mind!_

He stared across the darkness to Hisoka, the owner of the voice. He never knew the boy could transfer his thoughts like that!

Hisoka's eyes were tightly shut, though Tsuzuki couldn't tell if it was due to the pain or the telepathy. His hair was stuck on his face, wet with sweat, and he was panting hard. Then he opened his eyes and saw Tsuzuki in his frozen state.

"…Please," he said, in a quiet, quivering voice.

Tsuzuki knew it was meant for him, but it was Muraki who responded. The doctor chuckled. "I'm just starting."

"…Please," he whispered again, and closed his eyes in silent surrender.

Tsuzuki's eyes regained focus, and he was aware of the burning sensation in them. _Why does he always protect that vicious doctor? How can I free him when he doesn't want to be freed!_

He bit his own lips so hard they bled. _All this accursed power and I can do nothing!_

He laid back in frustration, forcefully turned his face from the tangled forms on the floor. Still he saw them, the sickening sight of the willing rape; still he heard the stifled gasps, the bodies writhing on the floor. He shut his mind from all that his senses told him, not comprehending, not caring. It had been so easy before he came to this room.

Yet he was no longer capable of that.

.

.

The hushed noises subsided a little before dawn. Tsuzuki knew it exactly because he had stayed awake all through it, waiting for the noises to stop just as he'd been waiting for his death— with no end in sight. He hadn't even bothered to close his eyes, keeping them trained on the dark sky outside the window.

He was aware of Muraki leaving the room, and couldn't help feeling worried when Hisoka had not gotten up from the floor soon after that.

He did, eventually. Tsuzuki watched from the corner of his eyes as the boy sat up in broken movements, then proceeded to stand on his terribly shaking legs. He picked up his clothes, admiringly managed not to fall whenever he bent down, and painstakingly dragged himself to the shower room next door.

He didn't glance once towards Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki was still looking outside the window when the washroom door opened. The boy's hair was wet from shower, the blood stains Tsuzuki had glimpsed on his body earlier had disappeared. But the bruises remained, and hatefully, so did the images of him under Muraki in Tsuzuki's mind.

He was carrying a pail and a piece of rag, with which he cleaned the floor on the spot where the intercourse had taken place.

Tsuzuki felt his anger raging inside to a suffocating degree. He hated Muraki for enslaving the poor boy, hated himself for not being able to stop that. But presently, more intense than those was his overwhelming anger at Hisoka for allowing himself to be violated so.

At that blinded moment he didn't care that Hisoka could feel his anger, didn't care that it caused the boy's hands to tremble even more as he continued scrubbing the wooden surface.

They didn't look at each other until Hisoka finished his chore and returned the pail and rag to the washroom.

Tsuzuki exhaled deeply, letting out the building tension.

_Why do I have to be so angry anyway?_ He thought bitterly. _He adores that doctor. If he chooses to be used by that bastard like that, then let him._

Hisoka emerged from the washroom. Tsuzuki glanced at him. For a brief second their eyes met.

The green eyes were clouded, troubled. Tsuzuki couldn't see the reflections of his emotions in them anymore. The boy lowered his gaze quickly, but Tsuzuki continued to stare in a sudden revelation.

_You are jealous, Tsuzuki!_

Yes, he was jealous that the doctor meant so much to Hisoka even though he was the one the boy called 'someone like me'. He was jealous that Hisoka still chose to remain in the existence that his master had created for him. He was jealous, because after the boy had convinced him to start living again, he had left him alone.

_You need me just as much as I need you._

It was too late for him to resort back to indifference now.

Hisoka sat down quietly in the far corner, away from Tsuzuki. The boy had been there when he first opened his eyes in this room, but after that he'd always sat beside Tsuzuki's bed. That was how close they had grown to be… and how far they had been torn apart.

"Hisoka," he called softly, and the boy jumped at that. He didn't answer, nor lifted his head to face Tsuzuki.

_At one moment we were sharing everything, and the next we're hurting each other like this._

"Hisoka!" he called again, more desperately. Hisoka clutched his knees in an effort to ignore him.

Tsuzuki sighed in frustration. He started to move his legs down the bed, painfully pulled his back to sit up.

Hisoka stole uneasy glances at him. As Tsuzuki bent forward and lost his balance, the boy couldn't ignore him any more. He sprang across the room, his knees sliding along the floor as he caught Tsuzuki before the man hit the floor. He could barely support Tsuzuki's weight, but with great effort finally managed to push him back on the bed. Tsuzuki leaned on the headboard, slightly out of breath.

"Don't try to get up yet!" Hisoka muttered. It was the closest to a scolding that Tsuzuki had ever heard from him.

"But you wouldn't come." Tsuzuki put a hand on Hisoka's cheek, gently forcing him to meet his eyes.

Hisoka closed his eyes as emotions rippled through him. He couldn't identify them.

"All of the nights that I was sedated?" Tsuzuki asked.

Hisoka turned away, withdrawing his face from Tsuzuki's touch in the process.

"Hisoka."

"I wish you never knew," he whispered, his voice broken. "I wish you never knew."

"I do now," Tsuzuki said quietly. "And I wish I had known earlier."

Hisoka clutched on his own sleeves, crossing his arms in front of his chest as if he suddenly felt naked.

"Don't hurt him." The voice quivered, but the resolution was firm.

"He's using you! Can you say you enjoy how he treats you?"

Hisoka chewed his lower lip. "…I don't mind being useful."

Tsuzuki couldn't believe such an irrational thought could possibly exist. He gripped Hisoka's shoulders, startling him.

"You said we had the right to live. This is not living, Hisoka!"

"Why not? I've been living like this for half of my age."

The tone was cold, as though he was trying to hide how he was actually hurting. Tsuzuki clenched the thin shoulders in frustration. "I can't believe you can be this fool—"

"Ah, so energetic today, Tsuzuki-san."

They turned abruptly to the door to find Muraki standing there. Hisoka paled.

Tsuzuki felt his hatred boiling. He dropped his hands from Hisoka's shoulders.

"Shall we resume the therapy?" Muraki asked cheerfully.

Tsuzuki kept his gaze neutral, but didn't care to respond. Hisoka still stood beside his bed, not moving to Muraki's side as he usually did.

"Boy, go and get a pot of warm water ready."

Hisoka made a sound, apparently still too stoned to speak. He nodded, hastily walked past the doctor to the door, and disappeared.

"Tsuzuki-san."

Tsuzuki waited. The warm water was no more than an excuse to get Hisoka out of the room.

"You seem to talk a lot to my boy while you always keep your reserve in my presence."

_"**My **boy"_! He'd said that in purpose. Tsuzuki glared.

Muraki smiled, and approached the bed.

"That makes me jealous, you know," he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer.

Tsuzuki edged away uncomfortably.

"Tsuzuki-san, you have a fascinating body. I can study it for years and it will still amaze me." Muraki brushed his fingers over his cheek. They were cold. "And you are also very beautiful."

_…Pardon me?_

Muraki smiled again as his hand trailed down Tsuzuki's neck, taking in the feel of the skin.

"So perhaps you were awake when we were here last night," he continued, and Tsuzuki stiffened. _He… intentionally…_

"A devoted slave he is, and he delights me. But the one I'm obsessed with is you."

That made Tsuzuki's fury burn anew. _This bastard…!_

He shot an icy glare at Muraki. "Take your hands off me, Doctor."

Muraki paused, seemingly surprised. But his hand persisted, and his face moved closer still.

"Ah, these beautiful violet eyes. They are even more brilliant when they shine in anger…"

Tsuzuki was losing his temper. "Do you hear me—"

Muraki moved to kiss him, and Tsuzuki barely avoided it when they heard a loud rattle from the door.

Hisoka stood there, his green eyes shocked wide. The loud rattle had come from the pot of water as its cover jolted up, due to the boy's sudden halt.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki called, worried.

Muraki waved absently at the boy. "Put it on the table," he ordered. "We'll start after I'm finished talking to Tsuzuki-san."

"Hi—" Tsuzuki started, then realized that the boy was not listening. He walked stiffly to place the pot on the table, and retreated to the corner.

Muraki advanced again, and Tsuzuki tried to push him away. "I said get off me!"

The doctor sneered. "Now, now, don't be so shy. It's not as if our audience is new to this kind of thing."

"You—!" Tsuzuki raged. He threw a quick glance at Hisoka. _My goodness, how awful he must be feeling right now…_

Hisoka's eyes were lowered, occasionally glancing towards the door as if longing to escape from the room.

_"…this is the only use you have left for me."_

Before him now was his master's plain proclamation that even for that use he could be easily abandoned.

Tsuzuki's fury was burning him alive. _That kind of **use**, I would gladly take it away from you!_

His right hand was hanging limp beside the bed, hidden from Muraki's view. Slowly, slowly as he let Muraki brush his lips along his face, he focused energy on that hand. _Control… control…_

Hisoka looked up as he heard the crisp crackling of the energy, and so did Muraki. But there wasn't time enough to do anything, as the next moment energy exploded in a huge circle of light around them.

Hisoka let out a startled cry. Muraki was thrown onto the floor. The blast had seared his chest and his left arm, where his coat now bore gaping holes.

"Master!" Hisoka ran towards Muraki.

"Leave him!" Tsuzuki glared venomously.

Hisoka hesitated, his legs slowed down slightly as he turned to Tsuzuki.

Muraki made an effort to get up, which failed miserably. Tsuzuki was about to aim another blast when Hisoka shot him a final nervous glance and ran to the doctor's side.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki warned. He couldn't risk sending the energy to their direction.

Hisoka pretended he hadn't heard. He helped Muraki to his feet, staggering under the doctor's weight, but managed to carry him to the door. Tsuzuki had always admired his determination, but he couldn't detest it more at this moment.

The boy turned a sad glance at him, and then they were gone from the room.

Tsuzuki looked down at his right hand. It still felt hot after the blast. _To think that this power can actually be useful…_

He profusely regretted that the attack hadn't killed Muraki. He needed to work harder on his control, and soon.

The thought didn't excite him, however. Tsuzuki sighed.

_Even if I kill the doctor… he will not start **living** if I don't make him see the path that he should take._

He leaned back and contemplated the piece of sky on the window.

_The path for us to live… starts from outside of this room._

.

..


	7. The Flight

_Author Notes:_

I'm sorry for the terribly long wait (again). I've been (and still will be) caught up in other commitments… but be assured that I'll finish this. I have the whole plot already planned. Thanks everybody for still following, and hugs for all who've been reviewing! ^_^

_Italics_ are thoughts and flashbacks.

**

* * *

**

**A Wing Short of Flying**

..

_When you come to the edge of all the light you have, and must take a step into the darkness of the unknown, believe that one of two things will happen: either there will be something solid for you to stand upon— or you will be taught how to fly._

**_- Patrick Overton_**

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..

Chapter Five: The Flight

..

.

Tsuzuki watched as Hisoka reentered the room, a gloomy expression on his face. For a moment, neither started to speak.

"…I've tended to his wounds," Hisoka said finally.

_You should have just let him die_, Tsuzuki let him read his thought.

Hisoka didn't say anything. He dropped onto the chair, seemingly exhausted.

Tsuzuki looked straight at him. "Let's get away from this place."

The boy turned abruptly at him, staring in disbelief. Tsuzuki didn't flinch.

Hisoka broke the eye contact. "I— I can't."

Tsuzuki had expected that answer. "Tell me why."

"I told you what happened when I tried to escape!" His fists tightened.

"You also told me we could live no matter what other people said."

"But there's no place for me outside this place! Not even in my father's cellar!"

As soon as the words were out, Hisoka clasped a hand over his mouth.

_Cellar… huh_, Tsuzuki thought. _One of the details I've not been told._

He pushed himself up straight, put his hands on Hisoka's arms, and looked straight into his eyes.

"If I can give you a new place to stay," he said, "would you leave him?"

A pair of wide eyes returned his gaze. "I… That's… "

_He really does feel for the doctor_, Tsuzuki realized. _That's the biggest problem._

"Do you love him?"

The green eyes stared at him, shocked.

"Do you really love him?" Tsuzuki demanded.

Hisoka blushed deeply. "It's not like that!"

"That's what I thought, too!" Tsuzuki retorted. "I can't believe someone so abused can still care for him as you do!"

That silenced the boy for a long moment. Then in a resigning voice, he said, "I've depended on him for almost as long as I can remember. What do you expect me to do?"

Tsuzuki tightened his hold on Hisoka, regarding him seriously.

"You do realize that you mean nothing to him."

Hisoka's eyes widened slightly.

"How is he different, then, from the people who have turned you away?"

The clouded emeralds dissolved to pieces under Tsuzuki's gaze. Tsuzuki hardened his heart.

"Hasn't he said it himself? He doesn't want you anymore. He wants me."

They were cruel words, but they needed to be said, and he would say them.

The young boy chewed his lips, closed his eyes. A single tear trickled down his cheek.

"Don't cry for someone like him," Tsuzuki said sharply.

Apparently used to obeying orders, Hisoka brushed on his eyes, and gritted his teeth.

"What I want to say is," Tsuzuki's voice softened, "I don't blame you for your feelings, but it's foolish to let him hurt you while he doesn't give a damn how you feel."

"I can't help it," Hisoka whispered, looking down at his feet.

"You haven't tried."

The boy didn't answer.

As the silence continued, Tsuzuki sighed in frustration.

"Hisoka, you said we could learn to live like normal people," he said. "I believe that enough to try, and I thought you would continue to give me that strength. But now you're saying you would stay where you are and leave me to try that on my own."

"This has nothing to do with you," Hisoka said, his tone almost harsh.

"You gave me that hope. Yet you forgo all hope when it comes to that doctor. Can I still believe what you've said?"

Hisoka opened his mouth to speak, but there wasn't anything he could say.

"If you have decided that… then I will also decide for myself. There's no point in my living on anymore."

Hisoka stood up abruptly. "You can't do that!"

Tsuzuki let his hands fall from Hisoka's arms with the boy's sudden movement, looked at him calmly. "You are not continuing with your life. You have no right to forbid me to do the same thing."

"I'm certainly not planning a suicide!"

"Hisoka, look at me." Tsuzuki urged, catching Hisoka's fingers with both hands. "Can you call this a life? I'm little more than a corpse under autopsy."

The boy lowered his gaze quietly, and Tsuzuki knew he had drawn the analogy that Tsuzuki didn't have the heart to voice out. _And you are little more than a toy to him._

"Perhaps just staying alive requires a lot of courage… But life is more than just existing, and this is not enough."

"That is why!" Hisoka's voice turned harsh with despair. "I'm not strong enough to break this bond with him!"

"Haven't you got what I've been trying to tell you? Neither am I! That's why I'm asking you to come with me!"

Hisoka stared. Apparently he indeed didn't get what Tsuzuki had meant until then.

"But what can I do? I have no use for any—"

"I'm asking you to stay with me. Nothing more." Tsuzuki clutched Hisoka's hand. "You can wash my brain with those books if you want. You can just sit by me like you've always done, and that will be enough."

Silence. They could hear the birds chirping, one sound after another, forming a ridiculous but lively harmony.

_…Can't you see they are more alive than we are?_

"We're the same, you and I, comrades… fighting against our own powers… and a world that rejects us." Tsuzuki paused, and watched how his words began to take effect. "You see… sometimes, just seeing another person fighting his own battle, not relenting, not giving up…can help you grow the strength to do the same."

Hisoka looked straight at him, light slowly returning to the jade irises. Tsuzuki returned his gaze evenly. The boy was measuring how serious he was, how far he could trust him.

"…I believe the phrase for that is 'moral support'."

Tsuzuki smiled.

"Do we… really have to run away from here?"

Tsuzuki's eyes flashed. "I'm not letting that doctor touch you again."

That was warning enough for Hisoka not to try defending his master in front of Tsuzuki. He blushed as Tsuzuki's mind replayed last night's scene, and Tsuzuki, upon realizing that, quickly chased those memories away.

Hisoka looked down on Tsuzuki's hands which were holding his own, his fingers clenching nervously in Tsuzuki's clasp.

"But what if no other will…" he voiced out finally. "…I'm more afraid of those people than of any amount of pain he gives me."

Tsuzuki squeezed his hands reassuringly. "Didn't you say you would work on controlling your power?"

Hisoka looked up at him, his eyes holding back a spark of hope.

"You transferred your thought to me last night. You were able to do that."

"…It did work, but…"

"What are you afraid of, then?" Tsuzuki asked. "Even in the worst case if all fails… you have me."

Those words affected the boy more than Tsuzuki had expected. He'd never seen the green eyes so bright.

While Tsuzuki was still lost in fascination, Hisoka asked, "Where will we go?"

"Anywhere you want," Tsuzuki answered. Well, he hadn't thought of that question before.

"…You decide."

"I… don't remember any place other than the hospital." _I worked hard forgetting the rest._

Hisoka was silent for a long minute. "…There's only one place I want to go to, but it is out of the question."

_Home. _Tsuzuki gave him a sympathetic look.

"We can rent a small place. There'll be a little problem with money though…"

"I can work," Hisoka offered. "Some people like me become assistant detectives or psychologists or fortunetellers, and are making a living out of that."

Tsuzuki gaped.

"You think that's bad?" The boy looked embarrassed. "Of course I can just be a waiter or—"

"No, no," Tsuzuki replied quickly, grinning. "I'm just glad you get some good ideas from your books."

"… I know they're a bit far off, with my non-existent education and all… "

Tsuzuki let go of Hisoka's hands to brush over the boy's hair affectionately. "Never be discouraged in whatever you want to do. You're strong enough for anything."

Hisoka blinked at the comforting gesture he was so unaccustomed to. Tsuzuki let out a small laugh, his mood brightened considerably.

"We should leave while he's still injured," he leapt into the planning.

Hisoka hesitated, then said, "Wouldn't it be better to wait until he gets better and returns to work? Then we'll have all day."

Tsuzuki raised an eyebrow, his jealousy resurfaced. _Was it just an excuse to make sure his master has recovered before he left him?_

"That's not what I was thinking," Hisoka protested. But he added, muttering, "Though it would be nice…"

Tsuzuki huffed. "I just don't want to wait any longer than is necessary. Besides, seeing him all healthy and smiling away will only make me want to blast him once more." He paused, seeing the horrified look on Hisoka's face.

_…Okay, that one was just the jealousy speaking. He probably thinks I'm a sadistic freak now._

"I'm sorry," Tsuzuki said, and he really meant it this once. "I know I'm being childish and unfair. I'm clinging to you just as you've been clinging to him... because there is nobody else."

The green eyes softened.

"I'm sorry, too," Hisoka said. "Despite all that he's done, he is still a special person to me. But I can't expect you to have the same opinion." He stood up. "Please wait while I pack our stuff, then we can leave."

"… Thank you."

Tsuzuki watched as Hisoka moved around the room, collecting the few belongings he had. He noticed the youth lingering at several places longer than the time he actually needed to gather the things. Tsuzuki wondered how he was feeling, to be soon leaving the place that had been his sanctuary for so long.

_Perhaps I'd been petty to blackmail him so_, Tsuzuki thought. _To bluff him that I'd kill myself if he wouldn't go with me..._

He felt bad about it, but only for a second.

_Then again, perhaps I did mean it._

.

.

"Are you okay?" Hisoka asked for the uptenth time.

"I am. Don't worry," Tsuzuki answered, matching the count. He was leaning heavily on the boy's shoulders, putting all his might in each step he took.

"We can wait until you're used to walking, Tsuzuki."

"I'm exercising on it now," Tsuzuki replied. He actually felt sorry to burden Hisoka like this, but they really had no time. Muraki was not going to go easy on him now that the doctor had known about his power. Their only consolation was the fact that the current Muraki was heavily sedated in a room of which entrance was blocked with chairs from the outside— which had been Hisoka's reluctant doing upon Tsuzuki's suggestion.

"This way," Hisoka whispered in an urgent voice.

They ducked behind a tree, stayed there unmoving. A middle-aged woman appeared at the end of the road, walking in their direction. She passed by the tree unsuspectingly. Tsuzuki and Hisoka watched as she disappeared at the other horizon of the road.

_The empathy comes in handy_, Tsuzuki thought. _Whoever could've said it was a curse?_

Hisoka helped him out from their hiding onto the grass path again, and they continued the painstaking journey. It was around three hours past noon judging from the sun's position, which meant that they had walked for more than five hours. They had only reached half the way out of this town, according to Hisoka. Tsuzuki briefly wondered how long the sedative would keep Muraki in the other world.

Hisoka, obliging as he was, had not complained at all. He carefully supported Tsuzuki, patiently adjusting his speed, never once showing the fear of being caught that Tsuzuki knew he must felt. That, in reverse effect, strengthened Tsuzuki's motivation to move faster. But willpower could only do so much. His body had its limits.

They had lapsed into silence, focusing on walking and hiding from anybody's view. Hisoka didn't want to take any risks of the pedestrians suspecting and reporting them to Muraki, and Tsuzuki agreed with him. But it didn't change the fact that they were moving terribly slowly, and that it tired Tsuzuki immensely. Hisoka had better stamina than him, but he could feel the boy's exhaustion all the same. It was not only from walking and bearing Tsuzuki's weight, but also from sorting out other people's presence with his empathy. It couldn't be easy with Tsuzuki's emotions alone pressing onto him with such a close contact.

_You don't regret this, do you?_ Tsuzuki asked silently.

Hisoka's hold on him tightened, bringing their sides closer together. _Not at all._

Another hour passed; another man and his daughter back from the market, another group of children skipping merrily down the road.

"We're more than half the way to the nearest village," Hisoka encouraged him. "We'll be there by night time."

Tsuzuki gave him a tired, but sincere, smile. Hisoka smiled back. With no food and water left, that was all the fuel they have for the journey.

They reached an open field, and started to walk faster. They wouldn't have anywhere to hide should somebody pass by at the moment.

Then suddenly, in the middle of the field, Hisoka went very still.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki called, confused. He naturally stopped when Hisoka ceased moving.

Right about then a voice startled him.

"I wonder where you plan to go."

.

..


	8. The Choice

_Author Notes:_

I have quite some explanation to make, so let's leave it after the chapter. ^_^0

_Italics_ are thoughts and flashbacks.

**

* * *

**

**A Wing Short of Flying**

..

_For after all, the best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain._

**_- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_**

__

..

Chapter Six: The Choice

..

.

Tsuzuki whirled around, as much as his hold on Hisoka would permit. The boy turned more slowly, having sensed Muraki's presence beforehand.

The doctor seemed composed despite his injury. The bandages were hidden behind his neat clothing, and he was smiling as usual.

They looked at each other, gauging.

"Give it up, Doctor," Tsuzuki warned. "You know what I can do to you."

"What you can do? From what I see, not much, Tsuzuki-san."

Tsuzuki scowled. Of course he didn't look so powerful draped across Hisoka's shoulders like that.

Muraki shifted his gaze to the stoned Hisoka. "I thought you said you would never leave me."

The tone was neutral, just as his usual commands to the boy, revealing no emotions at all. Hisoka lowered his gaze from Muraki's face.

"I…"

As he fell quiet, Tsuzuki pressed on their physical contact, trying to reassure him. Hisoka didn't respond.

_What's the problem with him?_ Tsuzuki frowned. _I thought he'd gotten over those feelings…_

Muraki walked closer.

"Stay away!" Tsuzuki barked. Muraki ignored him, looking straight at them defiantly as he kept approaching.

Tsuzuki gritted his teeth, and, much to Hisoka's panic, lashed out with his psychic power.

But Hisoka shouldn't have needed to worry.

The result was pathetic. There was no explosion save for a patch of flaming grass near Muraki's feet. It seemed that his aim had also been off. The only thing he managed to accomplish was upsetting his balance and falling from Hisoka's support.

"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka tried to pull him up.

"Exhausted, Tsuzuki-san?" Muraki mocked.

_Damn!_ Tsuzuki cursed. The journey had indeed consumed most of his energy.

Hisoka leaped between him and the doctor. "Master! Don't hurt—"

He squeaked as Muraki had suddenly come face to face with him. He took a quick step backwards, leaving Tsuzuki on the grass.

Muraki lifted a hand to Hisoka's cheek, touching it lightly. "Hisoka," he called, very gently.

Hisoka startled.

It was the first time Tsuzuki heard Muraki call the boy's name. His tone of voice sent a shiver down Tsuzuki's spine.

The doctor kept his eye on Hisoka, and his expression was far from the cold indifference he had always showed towards his assistant.

"You think I've abandoned you, don't you?"

He was gentle, very gentle. Hisoka was unable to speak.

"Is that why you left?"

Hisoka nodded slowly.

"And you thought you could help Tsuzuki-san, so you left with him," Muraki continued. "Ever a helpful one, aren't you."

Hisoka lowered his head in silent affirmation.

The doctor's hand moved behind Hisoka's neck, drawing the boy closer.

"See? I know you so well."

"Master…" Hisoka breathed, and Tsuzuki was shocked to hear so much longing in his voice.

"Hisoka!" he hissed. Muraki must be playing a mind game, knowing Hisoka's weakness for him. How could the boy not sense it with his empathy?

But Hisoka didn't seem to have heard him.

"Can you read my mind?" Muraki asked. "Do I not want you anymore?"

"You… still do," the voice held a profound relief.

The doctor smiled reassuringly. He was just too good in doing that. "And don't you still want to stay with me?"

"I—" Hisoka paused suddenly, as if reminded of something. He glanced at Tsuzuki uneasily. "But how about… Tsuzuki…"

"Of course he'll come with us," Muraki said. "You can see he's not at all fit for moving about. And just because I like him doesn't mean I don't like you anymore."

"I'm not going back with you," Tsuzuki cut sharply before Hisoka could reply, glaring at Muraki.

"I am responsible for taking you home from the hospital, Tsuzuki-san," Muraki said. "I can't just leave you here."

Tsuzuki snorted. "As if you care."

Hisoka looked at him guiltily. He was torn between them, that much was obvious.

"Hisoka, let's go," Tsuzuki urged.

The youth bit his lips uncertainly.

"Don't you remember what we talked about?!" Tsuzuki pleaded desperately.

"But it seems to be a misunderstand—"

"He is lying! It can't be true!"

Muraki drew Hisoka's face back to his direction. "You're the empath," he said, "you know how I really feel."

Hisoka closed his eyes briefly. "He… does want me to stay with him, Tsuzuki."

"Of course he does! He's using you all along!" Tsuzuki raged. "I thought we'd been through this talk?!"

"And you're not?" Muraki interjected mildly. "You're using him to help you escape, to stay by your side, to take care of you until you're able to do things on your own. And one day… one day, Tsuzuki-san, if what I read from your eyes is correct, you'll also use him to satisfy your lust."

"I'm not like you!"

"No?" Muraki smirked. "Is he so good in making you forget why you were cast out by everybody around you?"

"Shut up!" Tsuzuki yelled angrily. It frustrated him that he couldn't read what the doctor was trying to do.

"Well, what can you feel from him, Hisoka?" Muraki turned to the boy.

Hisoka had been watching the furious exchange nervously. He shook his head, confused.

"I promised him," he said in a little voice.

"So?" Muraki's tone was emotionless.

"We'll live through this," Tsuzuki said. Hisoka looked at him. Tsuzuki's expression was firm.

Hisoka moved away from Muraki's touch, turning towards Tsuzuki.

"You've chosen?" Muraki interjected as his hand fell back to his side.

Hisoka was now standing between the two of them. He turned to face Muraki, and Tsuzuki couldn't see his face.

Then suddenly he bowed deeply to the doctor.

Tsuzuki was stunned. He could tell Muraki was, too.

"Thank you for accommodating me all these years," Hisoka said, his voice thoroughly sincere, "and forgive me for leaving."

Muraki stared at him. Hisoka straightened, and turned to Tsuzuki.

"Let's go, then. I promised you."

_"I promised you"! That's the reason he left. Not because he could finally let go of his feelings for the doctor…_

As Hisoka pulled him up, Tsuzuki searched into his green eyes. _I've known that. I just can't accept it._

They walked away, and Muraki made no move to stop them.

Tsuzuki found it very suspicious. He kept glancing back. Hisoka, on the other hand, moved almost mechanically forward. Tsuzuki could understand his sadness, but it didn't mean he sympathized.

"Forget him," Tsuzuki mumbled.

Hisoka avoided his eyes, and didn't answer.

It was a short period of distraction, but long enough.

The gunshot was barely audible. Hisoka let out a choked cry and slumped down, his hand clutching his left thigh.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki called frantically. He had fallen down together with the boy.

"First one, out of six," Muraki said from behind him. Tsuzuki heard the next bullet clicking into position. "Am I not generous in giving second chances, Tsuzuki-san?"

Tsuzuki whirled around furiously. "You tried to kill him!"

"I gave that life to him," Muraki said. "I have the right to take it away."

"His life is his alone," Tsuzuki spat out. He dragged himself nearer to Hisoka to check on him.

Hisoka lied on the ground, twitching in pain. His eyes were wide open, staring in disbelief at his master who had shot him. Blood oozed out from the wound on his left thigh, which he was pressing hard on in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"I'm afraid that's not the case," Muraki said, pointing his revolver at Hisoka. "Will you two go back with me now?"

Hisoka was breathing with difficulty, trying to bear the pain.

Tsuzuki clenched his fists. _What should I do? His wound…_

Muraki fired the second time, and this time Hisoka cried out loud as the bullet penetrated his other thigh.

"Muraki!" Tsuzuki shouted with rage.

"The bullets must be extracted out as soon as possible," Muraki said casually. "You'll need a doctor."

Tsuzuki tried to gather his energy, but it was only a fading shimmer between his fingers. His power still denied him. He cursed to himself.

"I'm… sorry," he heard Hisoka say between jagged breaths.

"Silly, why should you be sorry?" Tsuzuki snapped. He started to panic, knew he shouldn't; and because of that, panicked even more.

"Neither of you can walk now," Muraki said. "I believe the decision is made."

Saying that, he reached out towards Tsuzuki with his empty hand.

Tsuzuki slapped it away. Muraki raised an eyebrow.

"Now, Tsuzuki-san… this is a life-and-death situation. It is not the time to be stubborn."

Tsuzuki glared.

"…You… g…go… Tsuzuki," Hisoka said in a weak voice.

Tsuzuki paused. If he tried, he might be able to walk, albeit very slowly. Hisoka seemed to believe that the doctor wouldn't hurt him. He couldn't be hurt, anyway.

_But._

"Not without you," Tsuzuki said.

Muraki smiled.

_This is what he wants. Damn it._

"You… should…n't…"

_But I have no other choice._ "Take care of him," he said to Muraki.

Muraki bent down and gathered Hisoka in his arms, lifting him up. He wobbled a little, perhaps from the injury Tsuzuki had inflicted. "You come with us too, Tsuzuki-san."

_As if I will leave Hisoka alone with you?_

Tsuzuki grabbed Muraki's arm, pulled himself up from the ground. "If he dies, I'll bring you to join him."

Muraki laughed. Tsuzuki grumbled as he reluctantly held on to the doctor.

"Someday you'll be grateful to me, Tsuzuki-san. Do you really think there's any place you can go if you leave?"

"Any place is better than yours," Tsuzuki retorted as he dragged his feet alongside of Muraki.

"That's what this brat thought when he tried to run away, years ago," Muraki said. "I remembered bringing him back all traumatized from the villagers' treatment—"

"Enough," Tsuzuki cut him off sharply. He didn't want Hisoka to recall that.

The boy's eyes were closed, as though sleeping, except for the heavy breaths he took.

"…And he has stayed with me since then," Muraki calmly continued. "He learns."

"You know what he feels for you."

"Of course."

"And of course, you exploit that as you please."

Muraki smiled. "Shouldn't I? He would still feel the same no matter how I treated him."

An ache inside his chest. "Damn you."

"You cursed a lot today, Tsuzuki-san."

"…If I hated you any less, I might have asked you to just kill me."

"Ah, that's the spirit," Muraki's smile grew wider.

_He is… mad._

And Tsuzuki shuddered, remembering the obsession the doctor confessed he had for him.

Blood oozed out from Hisoka's wounds, staining the doctor's white coat deep red. The metallic smell dizzied Tsuzuki.

They passed by pedestrians every now and then. There were curious stares… careful avoidance… but Muraki's profile as a doctor seemed to offer a logical explanation for the weird sight, and nobody attempted to question them.

Night fell. In Muraki's arms, Hisoka too fell unconscious.

.

..

* * *

_Author Notes:_

Ugh… I'm not used to writing action scenes. Hope this one is acceptable. Please criticize so I can improve.

I suppose I owe you all a huge apology for keeping you waiting for so long. *bows* Thanks for reminding me not to be slow in updating. I try my best! ^^0

Some of your reviews didn't show up on the review page (due to some bugs in the system, I suspect… Thanks **Tessa **for reposting your comment.) If you don't mind, please repost any questions or comments you had. Thanks. =)

On to the explanation... I originally planned to finish the fic in two more chapters. The plot was rather simple and straightforward. But then I read some of the reviews asking me to keep the fic going. I'm not sure how others think since some reviews did not show up. Well, I'm afraid things will get pretty dull if I drag it any longer beyond my planned plot… but then I also agree that the plot IS too simple if I just finish it off there. So… yeah, I stretch the fic, and with that, now I don't have a clear idea where it's going... =P Please tell me when things start not making any sense! ^^0


	9. The Hollow

_Author Notes:_

Big red warnings for near-yaoi scenes with some sort of sadism involved. I don't think it's R-rated, but let me know if you think so after reading… And creepy paragraphs, but y'all should be used to those by now. ^_^

_Italics_ are thoughts and flashbacks.

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**A Wing Short of Flying**

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_There's a reason why people don't stay who they are._

**_- Patty Smyth & Don Henley, "Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough"_**

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Chapter Seven: The Hollow

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.

_Drip._

Thick crimson blood dripped on the green blades of the grass, one drop followed by another, in an ever increasing speed. The grass could no longer be seen.

He looked down at his feet. Suddenly there was no grass but metallic blades, the sharp edges eating into his bare skin.

_Throb._

He could feel the nerves on his legs throbbing, sending sharp sensations of pain through his body. His brain felt like cooked, his face numb, his lips cracking dry.

_Gasp._

It was a world of silent screams. So many emotions were pressing on the walls of his mind, demanding escape, but though his mouth was open, no sound came out.

"Hisoka…"

Tsuzuki squeezed the boy's feverish hand. Dizziness overwhelmed him like a non-stop buzz in his head, caused by all the thoughts that were invading his mind. Hisoka's thoughts. The unconscious empath was apparently having a fever-induced nightmare, and his power was projecting it wildly out of control.

"It's amazing how strong he is projecting while unconscious," Muraki shook his head from the corner of the room. He massaged his temples, seemingly affected despite the distance he kept between himself and the bed Hisoka was occupying. "He hasn't showed such a strong mind power since he was nine years old."

Tsuzuki recalled Hisoka telling him that he'd been seven years old when he first came. "Perhaps living with you was a bad influence."

"Despite all the effort I took to heighten the powers for my research," Muraki replied evenly. "Oh, well. He is also useful in other matters besides academic study."

Tsuzuki fixed a cold stare at him. "Say something like that again and I'll burn your tongue."

"You will?" Muraki smirked.

Tsuzuki decided that it wasn't wise to provoke a confrontation while the doctor's help was still needed. "Why hasn't he woken up yet?"

It had been a full night and day since they returned. The sedative should have worn out by now.

"The nightmares are keeping him, I guess."

Tsuzuki let go of Hisoka's hand at last, the ugly thoughts becoming too much for him. "What to do, then?"

"Nothing. He'll wake up when he has rested enough."

Muraki walked up to Hisoka, frowned as the mental assault grew. He took a syringe from the table, filled it with some sort of liquid, and injected it into Hisoka's arm.

"What was that?" Tsuzuki asked suspiciously.

"More sedative. At this rate, he'll drive us insane."

Tsuzuki didn't think the doctor could get more insane than he already was. "But he'll take longer to wake up."

Muraki sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Tsuzuki patiently. "He will be fine, Tsuzuki-san."

Tsuzuki scowled. "Do you even care?"

"I'd rather not waste my energy worrying. We should make good use of this chance while we're alone." He leaned closer.

"Don't," Tsuzuki cut sharply, edging away from him. "I'm warning you."

"But you don't even have to like me," Muraki smiled. "Desire will speak for itself."

"I'm not interested."

"Irrelevant," Muraki said. He suddenly gripped Tsuzuki's chin, startling the man. The next second he pressed his lips firmly upon Tsuzuki's.

Tsuzuki's eyes flew wide. He tried to pull away, but the doctor leaned forward to follow, having Tsuzuki well trapped between himself and the chair. His kiss was rough and forceful, establishing authority, not bothering with his characteristic gentleness.

"I'm not going to pretend that all's still sweet and nice between us, because it isn't," Muraki's breath was warm on Tsuzuki's face. "I've told you plainly that I wanted you, and you have quite blatantly indicated your answer. You tried to run away from me, and I will not forget that."

He trailed down along Tsuzuki's jaw to the neck.

"Stop!" Tsuzuki choked out. He didn't like the way his own body was reacting.

"You refused to play nice… so I'll get what I want the hard way."

Tsuzuki's head tilted up involuntarily, feeling the seductive motion on his throat. Hisoka's projected emotions faded to the background, replaced by a very strong disgust of his own.

"We can forget romance now. Two devils have no need for pretenses of love."

Tsuzuki felt his body heating up to Muraki's temptations, and he thought of hell.

_Devils…_

"…Someone with such a strong dark power couldn't possibly avoid developing a dark mind…"

_Was it the doctor speaking, or was it my own mind…?_

"You talked the boy into helping you escape, and see what happened?"

_"Devil! Devil!" Behind him the crowd roared, fearfully, hatefully._

_But it isn't true…_

_"I want you to live."_

The one who said that was dying because of him.

He could already feel the fall. With one wing torn he couldn't fly.

They were lying on the floor now. He didn't realize when it happened. Muraki was taking full control of the situation, and he… and he…

…And he was following equally.

He was responding to every move, touching as he was being touched, leading the doctor's hands to where he wanted them at.

The earlier disgust felt like a natural part of him now.

A sharp pain on his chest jolted him. He hadn't heard the sound of his shirt tearing.

His eyes refocused on the doctor's face, seeing the satisfaction there. There was a knife at the doctor's hand.

"What are you…" he croaked.

"Making this more exciting," Muraki's eyes gleamed. "And the best part is that I don't have to hold back at all. You will not die."

Blood stained the already tainted white coat, red on dried crimson.

"You…'re… sick…"

Laughter. "Who defined the norms, Tsuzuki-san? People who've turned you away?"

Tsuzuki watched the doctor licking the blood on the knife.

_He's right. I, too, am sick…_

A weak consciousness screamed at the back of his mind, telling him that this was a mental trap.

_But what can I do to keep from falling?_

Hisoka's sad eyes, longing for the doctor… Hisoka's feeble arms, protecting the doctor…

_How pathetic… we're both loving someone who's not even looking._

_"Two devils have no need for pretenses of love."_

Again the metal slashed his skin.

_Pain. Pain. This is how it should be._

He reached up to Muraki's shoulders, surprising the doctor.

A pleasant surprise, though. "Enjoying it now, Tsuzuki-san?"

His hands brushed lightly along Muraki's neck, caressing. Muraki leaned closer…

Tsuzuki reached the throat, and squeezed down with force.

Muraki choked, and dropped the knife.

"…Tsu…zgh…"

_Metalic grasses all around…_

Muraki's hands gripped his, trying to peel them apart to no avail.

Tsuzuki watched the doctor's pale face turning even paler, horror beginning to seep into his usually cool gaze.

"What are you frightened of?" Tsuzuki asked calmly, as though they were just enjoying the sea breeze. "Devil is not afraid of devil."

Muraki dropped to his side. Tsuzuki rolled over to pin him to the floor, but at that time Muraki managed to send a strong kick to Tsuzuki's stomach, breaking the two of them apart.

Coughing violently, Muraki hurriedly got up from the floor. Tsuzuki lied still.

Slowly, he touched his finger to the dried line of blood across his chest.

_Drip. _

_Throb._

_Gasp._

Tsuzuki's last thought before passing out was: _Hisoka._

.

.

When he opened his eyes, he couldn't remember why he was on the floor. _Wasn't I sitting on the chair beside Hisoka?_

Turning his head towards Hisoka, he saw the boy sitting up on the bed, looking out of the window.

"Hisoka! You're awake!" Tsuzuki tried to get up. He was mostly sore from sleeping on the hard surface, but his energy was recovering.

There was no movement.

Tsuzuki staggered to the bed. "Hisoka?"

Turning around, he couldn't find Muraki. _Great. Now when we need him he is not here._

He sat on the edge of the bed, stretching his neck to see Hisoka's face.

"Are you okay?" Tsuzuki asked worriedly. The boy seemed to have left his soul elsewhere.

Still no answer. "Hisoka!"

Slowly, Hisoka turned to him. His green eyes were dull, and for a moment they were flickering uncertainly, as if trying to register the surroundings.

"Hi—"

"…Yes."

The voice was hollow. Tsuzuki held his breath.

Hisoka's eyes were focused now; sharp, cold. Those eyes reminded him of his own eyes reflected on the hospital window some time ago.

Lifeless.

"…How are you feeling?"

"Nothing much." Still with disinterested voice.

Tsuzuki watched the cold expression. _Concern…anger…frustration…possession… what exactly do I feel for him?_

"You can tell me anything, Hisoka."

Hisoka's gaze stayed on his face for a second, then he turned away. "I'm sorry."

Even that was said with no emotions at all. Tsuzuki sighed. "There's nothing to forgive."

"Yet."

"What do you mean?"

Hisoka kept looking at the window, refusing to say anything more.

Tsuzuki reached out to touch his face. "Don't kee—"

Unexpectedly, Hisoka brushed his hand away quickly, almost slapping.

Tsuzuki stared.

"Please don't," Hisoka said, looking into Tsuzuki's eyes briefly before turning away again. "My powers are very much stronger than usual."

"… I see," Tsuzuki lied. Empathy or not, that hurt.

He couldn't understand the sudden change in Hisoka's behavior. Was it after-shock because his master had tried to kill him? But Muraki had done worse things to him before.

"Hisoka, please. You must let me know what is disturbing you."

Hisoka leaned on the headboard, closing his eyes as a signal that he didn't want to talk anymore.

Tsuzuki looked on with disappointment. As Hisoka didn't move, he shifted his eyes to his lap, and stared blankly at his hands.

Then Hisoka spoke.

"The next time you do it with him, can you try to get his gun?"

.

..

* * *

_Author Notes:_

Okay, the deviation was quite huge… the improvised plot with an added Dark Tsuzuki™! My first draft was where Muraki had his way, but halfway through it I got bored reading it myself… *scratch head*

By the way, is anyone confused by the beginning of the chapter? They were Hisoka's emotions in Tsuzuki's mind. 'He' refers to Hisoka, as Hisoka sees himself. As explained afterwards, Hisoka's telepathic power was wildly projecting his emotions as he lied there having fever and all. Yeah, it's rather fanciful… bear with me please. ^_^0


	10. The Doctor

_Author Notes:_

This is another sidestory centering on Muraki-Hisoka, a more light-hearted one, told from an anonymous POV. Definitely with some shounen-ai... and written just because I suddenly imagined Hisoka walking in with Muraki into my lecture room. (Gah, still need to quickly work out the next chapter! ^^0) Sorry that I don't write enough of Tsuzuki, this fic is Hisoka-centric after all… and I'm not too fond of Muraki-Tsuzuki.

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**A Wing Short of Flying**

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_You see, I don't wanna do good things. I wanna do great things._

**_- Lex Luthor, "Smallville: Hourglass"_**

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Sidestory Two: The Doctor

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The kid started coming with him exactly six days ago.

It is so like him to pick up an orphan, that friendly doctor. He has a very charming smile, and shares it with anybody anytime. Well… his kindness cost me a little heartbreak some years ago, as I was a foolish young woman at that time, thinking that his charms were for me alone.

Even so, I'm still fond of him today. I am no longer under his care; a younger doctor has taken over my case as he apparently needs to concentrate on patients with worse conditions. "It doesn't mean we're not taking your case seriously," he assured me when he told me that news. "After all, I'll only hand over a patient when I'm assured that she'll get well in no time."

I'm definitely getting better, though my disease sure takes its own sweet time to heal. It's been four months now, and he still checks on me from time to time. I tell everybody that no one is as suited to be a doctor as he. That gentleness. That sincerity. And I hear talks that he is a genius, too.

Such a perfect man.

That boy arouses my curiosity. He seems to be a timid one, always walking slightly behind the doctor at his side. I often see the doctor hugging and playing with the children staying in this hospital, so I wonder about this unusual sight. But if he really is one of those street kids, it makes sense. They are always pretending to be cold and independent and never want to show any soft spot to anyone.

With nothing much to do to spend my time, my imagination is very active. Not to mention that I'm good at it, too. Is he a tramp who met the doctor on his way and decided to follow him around? Or has the doctor let him stay in his house out of compassion? At first I was concerned because I really like the doctor, and I was worried that the kid might have mischievous intentions towards him. Who knows if he has a gang of friends waiting somewhere for the kid to lure the doctor to them, then beat him and take his money?

But it's been a peaceful week, and somehow I cannot imagine the boy doing any malice. He is, in truth, a beautiful one. His youthful face can't be more than ten years old. If he'd been properly fed and dressed, he would be a very handsome boy. He even has some grace about him, but that may just be a result of his reservedness.

So I conclude that he must have once belonged to a rich family who suddenly fell into poverty (perhaps with the complication of a few suicides in the family), and is left alone living off the street.

I am ready to test this conclusion this morning. I have the habit of moving my wheelchair to the window every morning, to enjoy the early sunlight and to wait for the doctor's arrival. He always appears from the far end of the road that faces my window, walking calmly as is characteristic of him. When he sees me he will wave and smile widely, and on the mornings when he is not in a hurry to attend to one of his patients he will stop by and chat with me.

These few days he didn't, because he had that kid with him. I saw them walking together from the end of the road, without talking. This is another weird thing about them. Only occasionally, I observed, the doctor said something to him, and he nodded in response. Nothing more.

This morning, as I see them approaching, I quickly call out. "Doctor!"

Both of them look up. The doctor smiles and waves back at me, as usual. The boy just looks at me with his big green eyes, and I look back at him with interest. He shrinks slightly and looks nervous, but keeps a glance at me. I'm not the only one with a cat's curiosity.

"Doctor," I ask, "he is…?"

The doctor seems thoughtful for a while. "You can say he's… my assistant," he answered with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Assistant?" This doesn't fit in any scenario I have come up with. "But not a nurse?"

"Oh, not in that area, though sometimes he does help… He mostly helps me with my research."

He told me about his researches before, mostly on human immune system, along the line of his noble profession.

"Oh, but he is still so young..."

"Not too young, not too young," the doctor says good-humouredly, tapping the boy's shoulder. It seems to jolt him.

That fits. The doctor tries to get close to him, but the boy keeps his distance. Most problematic kids do.

"So… what do you do as an assistant?" I ask the boy. My sole purpose is actually just to hear him speak.

"Uh…" he glances at the doctor hesitantly. I raise an eyebrow. According to my character analysis, he may hesitate in answering me, a stranger, but he should not be concerned with the doctor's approval, being a cold child that he must be.

"Observing," the doctor answers for him, and winks at me. "Kids have sharp eyes, and their curiosity often leads them to learn much more things than adults do. Don't you think so?"

"Aa," I answer absently, still wondering at the anomaly in the behavior I just saw.

The doctor takes over the conversation then, inquiring about my health. I'm fine, of course. Just very, very curious.

I itch to ask how they met, but if my guess about the boy's origins is any good, that question is simply inappropriate. People have labeled me a busybody, but no one ever call me heartless. There are things you just cannot ask. I'll have to find out more about that myself.

The doctor looks at his watch. "Ah, I'm afraid we have to leave now," he says, smiling apologetically. "I have to report in before eight."

"Oh, that's okay," I say. I want time to process this new information. "We'll talk again next time?"

"Next time," he promises. "Take good care, okay?"

I nod. My gaze falls on the boy, who happens to be looking at me. He quickly averts his eyes downward, then follows the doctor.

Very interesting.

I have another opportunity to observe him in the late afternoon, when nurses take patients out to the garden for a walk or just fresh air. I wheel myself under the shades of a tree with my novel in my lap. I've been flipping stories over in my mind to fit my observation of the doctor and his assistant, but have not found a satisfying theory. Reading will help to clear my mind.

But my novel is soon forgotten as I catch the sight of them, walking towards the group of children who are listening to a story read by one of the nurses. I watch with interest.

The doctor spreads his smile for all the kids and the nurse, who is as charmed by the doctor as I am. He sits down at the end of the semi-circle row, and though I can't hear what he says, I can guess that he's asking the nurse to continue the story.

Usually some of the younger children will compete for a place on the doctor's lap, and they will end up crawling all over him, so favorite he is to them. Today, though, all of them are watching the new boy curiously.

I can see the boy's nervousness clearly. He seems to overcome himself though, and kneels down quietly next to the doctor in the formal sitting position.

The doctor says something, and the cheerfulness resumes. The nurse laughs joyfully and resumes her story-telling. I envy her, but I quickly put that aside to observe the objects of my attention.

I am disappointed, though. The doctor plays, jokes, laughs with the children as usual, but the boy is quiet all the time. If there's a new thing I learn, it's that he pays a close attention to the story being read. The studious type. What exactly is the doctor asking him to observe?

The session ends. The doctor utters a few words, undoubtedly goodbyes, which earn him some whining and coat-pulling from the children. He laughs and skillfully 'removes' them with, I know, promises and affectionate threats, as he used to give me. The boy stands up with him, nodding slightly towards the nurse. She seems surprised by the unexpected courtesy. So do I.

But that fits with the rich family conjecture, so all's fine.

They walk away. On a whim, I stir my wheelchair to follow them. I think of calling out to them for a chat, but my instincts speak against it. I may find out more by watching from a distance.

After a few turns, I know for sure the doctor is heading to his lab. He often spends his free time there, working on his valuable experiments instead of refreshing himself like most doctors do. He said once that he felt refreshed while doing his research. He enjoys it immensely. I admire his dedication, of course, but sometimes I can't help worrying if he gets enough rest.

They enter the lab. I wheel myself closer, slowly and carefully.

"… did you feel?" I hear the doctor saying. The door is closed, but there is a window at the other side. I turn towards that direction.

"… mixed up… strong… happiness," is all I manage to catch. His voice is soft, careful. A trained child.

"… better… next time."

Silence follows. If they have said anything, I don't catch it. I continue my way towards the window, and peek inside.

My heartbeat pauses.

The boy is kissing him.

Well, the doctor is the one who is leaning forward with his hand on the wall, but it must be the boy who started the kiss, because the doctor is calm and cool as ever while the boy seems to be… melting. And the doctor can't possibly want to do that to a boy of that age, right? He might be a homosexual, but not a pedophile. Definitely not. If he had done something to the children in the hospital – whom he is so close to – I would have heard about it.

My heart resumes beating at a high pace, and I hastily turn my wheelchair away as I see them getting beyond kissing. Even in twenty over years of womanhood I've never seen two males making out.

Well, there are things you just cannot ask.

My mind races with a hundred questions as I hurriedly wheel away from that place. How could I have missed the signs? The boy is clearly worshipping the doctor. Those nervous, quiet glances… I should have read it all in his eyes.

I startle a nurse as I whirl past her, paying very little attention to my surroundings. I only stop when I reach my reading spot earlier. Then I am slowly aware of my breathing again, of the wild pulse in my arteries, of the mild ache in my chest. Then only I remember my weak heart.

Given the extent of shock, I'm lucky that I didn't get a seizure. Maybe it is my instincts that have subconsciously warned me.

The boy is lucky, I suppose. At least the doctor returns his feelings. I do feel sorry for him for all the misfortune he's been through – what else can explain such unstable, blind devotion towards his perceived savior? Still, it horrifies me that a child of such tender age has known such lust, such… immorality.

Feeling blood returning to my face, I slowly move towards my room. A nurse sees me, and I thankfully let her take over the control of the wheelchair.

There's nothing to be horrified of. The doctor is still a nice man, a great doctor, no matter what his preferences may be. I have yet to sort my feelings out, but I am quite convinced that he will still be my favorite doctor, that I'll still be fond of his smiles and his small talks. It remains a fact that he is the best a doctor can be.

And in a strange way, I am slightly glad to know that the doctor is a gay. It means that there is no other woman.

Perhaps I never do get over that little heartbreak of mine.

.

..


	11. The Descent

_Author Notes:_

I can't thank you enough for keeping up with this fic and reviewing! ^_^ Same warning as always: shounen-ai, and very, very twisted states of mind. Have I confused anybody yet?

To **_Kitty_**_: _The explanation as to why Hisoka thought so is in this chapter. But in truth Muraki and Tsuzuki hadn't got so far. Hm, perhaps I was too implicit in such kind of scene…

_Italics_ are thoughts.  
_"Quoted italics"_ are flashback dialogues.  
_—Italics between dashes—_ are telepathic thoughts (from Hisoka).

_**

* * *

**_

**A Wing Short of Flying**

__

..

_Do we have faith in what we believe? The truest test is when we cannot see._

**_- Jane Siberry, "It Won't Rain All the Time"_**

__

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Chapter Eight: The Descent

____

..

.

For a few seconds Tsuzuki looked at him blankly.

"…What?"

"Get his gun. Don't you want to get out from here?"

"But I thought you didn't want to—" Tsuzuki paused. "Never mind, that's not the issue now. _How_ did you say I should get his gun?"

A tint of red appeared in the youth's face. "It's in the pocket inside his coat, Tsuzuki. Just take it when you're… groping him."

"Gro—" Tsuzuki blanched as he suddenly understood what Hisoka had been referring to. "What are you talking about? No such thing happened!"

"You were on the floor," Hisoka pointed out matter-of-factly. "Your clothes are disheveled… your shirt is torn."

Tsuzuki looked down at his shirt automatically. "…"

Hisoka turned back to the window.

"…I didn't remember how…" Tsuzuki said weakly. _Did I really…_

"It's all right, Tsuzuki. I'm not blaming you or anything."

"It's not that! I will never—"

"Then all right, it didn't happen," Hisoka said in a tired voice. "It doesn't matter, Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki glanced at him. "You're angry." _Why can't I remember what happened?_

"I'm not."

"Hisoka…" Tsuzuki had to restrain himself from taking the boy into his arms.

"I don't know what I should feel anymore, Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki stared. Hisoka still wouldn't look at him, so he couldn't see how blank those eyes were.

_Then… love me._

If Hisoka had read that thought, he didn't show it. Tsuzuki quickly cast it aside. It wouldn't do to burden the boy with his feelings right now.

_But… he already knew anyway, didn't he?_

"Do you really want to leave?" he asked carefully.

"I told you before, I would."

"You would leave, because I asked you to. Not because you wanted to." Tsuzuki's tone softened as he continued, "I'm asking you about now."

There was a long silence. "Right now… there isn't anything I would want."

Tsuzuki's throat tightened. It seemed the damage was too great this time.

"…But you want that gun."

The attempted humor fell flat. Hisoka looked at him without expression.

"I don't want that gun in his hands when we're leaving."

_Why are you choosing to come with me?_

Tsuzuki took a deep breath. "In any case, you have to get well first… and I need to practice moving about on my own."

Hisoka nodded absently.

"And I'll get that gun some other way." Thinking of being within an inch from Muraki made his skin crawl.

"Whatever works," came the impassive reply.

It seemed there was nothing else they could talk about right now. Tsuzuki took Hisoka's book from the table, and handed it to him. "Do you want to read?"

The boy took it without enthusiasm.

_If even that cannot cheer him up…_

"I'll exercise my walking now," Tsuzuki informed him, and stood up.

Just a brief glance, a flash of worry in the green pools before they turned disinterested again— but Tsuzuki caught it, and his heart warmed up.

He smiled and held back an urge to ruffle Hisoka's hair like he used to do. "I'll be fine. You just work on your recovery, okay?"

Without answering, the boy lowered his head to read, hiding his eyes behind his bangs.

Tsuzuki sighed._ If only I can read what he's thinking about._

He started to move himself forward, holding on to the wall. Muraki wasn't likely to give him any more physical therapy, so he would just have to figure this out on his own. Left foot up… forward… step. That felt right. Right foot up… forward… step.

He felt strangely refreshed after the period of sleep – or was it unconsciousness? – which he couldn't remember about. He remembered Muraki injecting that sedative to Hisoka, then… perhaps the doctor had given him some, too?

Up… forward… step.

He could feel Hisoka's stolen glances on him, and the fact made him happy, though he knew the underlying feeling wasn't what he wanted it to be.

_At least… it seems he has given up on the doctor._

He was suddenly glad the incident had happened. All his talk couldn't have swayed Hisoka's devotion like Muraki's own actions had done.

_That is selfish of me_, Tsuzuki thought. _But I can't help it._

He was in love.

Step……step……

"Muraki is coming," Hisoka said suddenly. He had stopped reading, if he had done it at all.

Tsuzuki, too, stopped on his tracks. _What does he want now?_

He realized then that Hisoka had called the doctor with his name. There seemed to be a great change in how he saw his former master. For better? Or for worse?

He noticed Hisoka looking at him strangely.

"What?" Tsuzuki asked.

"…You couldn't remember what happened?"

Tsuzuki shook his head.

"His emotion is strange. There's some sort of… fear."

Tsuzuki could offer no explanation. _What exactly has happened?_ He looked down at his torn shirt again. The edges were tainted with blood, but there were no traces of cut on his skin beneath. Either the cut had healed… or it was someone else's blood.

_Blood._ The thought made him shudder. He wasn't sure why.

The door opened. Muraki stepped inside.

_Fear?_ Tsuzuki thought. _He does walk very cautiously._

The three of them paused in silence.

Muraki closed the door.

Tsuzuki leaned on the wall, waiting. Hisoka examined the cover of his book.

Muraki glanced at Tsuzuki, then observed Hisoka. "You're awake," he said.

Hisoka didn't respond.

"What do you want?" Tsuzuki asked coldly.

Strangely, the doctor seemed to relax as he heard that question. _What is he expecting me to do?_

"I'm just checking on both of you, Tsuzuki-san."

_—Remember, the gun. —_

Tsuzuki acknowledged the telepathy with a slight nod.

Muraki walked past him to the bed. Warily, Tsuzuki shifted to follow him. The doctor sat on the bed, lifted the blanket to reveal Hisoka's thighs. The boy automatically reached for the blanket to cover himself again, but stopped as the doctor began to examine his wounds.

"They're healing fine," Muraki said. Hisoka shivered slightly as he felt the doctor's fingers brushing on his skin.

"Take your hands off him," Tsuzuki scowled.

"You're being impossible, Tsuzuki-san… How can I treat his wounds then?"

Hisoka glanced at Tsuzuki, but Tsuzuki couldn't read his expression in any way. _Perhaps he's telling me to get the gun now?_

Before he could decide what to do, Hisoka suddenly pulled Muraki closer to him. Tsuzuki's eyes widened.

Muraki, too, paused in surprise. His eyes remained wary.

"You said you still wanted me," Hisoka said in a low voice, clutching Muraki's coat.

"It was you who chose to leave me," Muraki said. He didn't move to hug Hisoka as the boy might have wanted. Tsuzuki noticed his eyes darting between the two of them. He was smart, this doctor.

"I'm sorry," Hisoka said, leaning closer to Muraki's chest.

"Just make sure I won't have to shoot you again," Muraki said. His hand moved up Hisoka's thigh slowly.

"You won't," Hisoka put his hands around Muraki. "That's what I'm sorry for."

His voice had suddenly turned cold, and he pulled out his right hand from Muraki's coat pocket, the gun clutched in his fingers. He cocked the weapon.

Tsuzuki held his breath.

Muraki quickly attacked that hand to retrieve his revolver. He managed to divert the weapon, just as Hisoka tried to fire it towards his stomach.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki rushed to his side. He feared where the bullet had gone.

With a hand, Muraki clutched his left shoulder, where the shot had instead penetrated. Blood was flowing from between his fingers. His other hand was fighting with Hisoka's to get hold of the gun.

Tsuzuki did the best solution he thought possible. He reached between them and snatched the weapon away from Hisoka's fingers.

Both pair of eyes stared at him now.

"Give it back to me, Tsuzuki," Hisoka said flatly. Muraki was holding tight to Hisoka's right wrist, his face stiff with anger.

Tsuzuki shook his head. The idea of letting Hisoka kill was horrifying.

"I'll kill him for you," Hisoka said. "I'm the one who should do this."

"What do you mean…" Tsuzuki suddenly felt dizzy. _Kill… kill…_

He saw Muraki's eyes widen, but barely had time to wonder about that. Swiftly despite his wound, the doctor sprang at Hisoka, and seized the boy's throat with both hands.

Hisoka choked. His hands tried vainly to pry away Muraki's strong hands.

"Stop it!" Tsuzuki jerked the gunpoint to rest on Muraki's temple. Only then he noticed his hands were shaking. _What is it with me?_

Muraki looked at Tsuzuki remarkably calmly, his hands still strangling Hisoka. "You'd love to do that, wouldn't you," he said, slightly heaving. "Kill."

A curious beat pounded on the walls of Tsuzuki's mind. He tried to ignore it and focus on the current situation. "I'll do that if you don't release him!"

_Throb. Throb._

The noise in his head continued.

Hisoka seemed to want to say something, but couldn't.

_—Cock the g—_

_What is it?_ Tsuzuki wanted to ask within his chaotic mind.

"Don't you know how to use a revolver?" Muraki said. "But you've never needed such tools to kill, have you."

_Cock the gun_, Tsuzuki remembered. _I've never needed to use this before…_

He saw Hisoka's contorted face as the boy tried valiantly to breathe through the squeezed space. _Muraki's face… white…_

Tsuzuki shook his head angrily. _What am I seeing? And at this point of time… _With a shaking hand he cocked the weapon.

"Why do you hesitate?" Muraki's voice came again. "It'll just be another dead body."

_Dead._

_—Don't—_

_Oh, shut up, all of you…_

_—He…wants you… to…submit…—_

"Well?"

_Stop all those noises!_

_—…devil…—_

He dropped the gun. _Shut up! Shut up!_

Cold hands enclosed him.

"Don't be afraid," a voice said. "Let it out."

Tsuzuki slowly released his hands, which had been clutching his head. He felt the nausea rushing in.

"Your demons."

Muraki stood before him. He remembered the same glint in those silver eyes when the doctor confessed his obsession.

"No," he managed. He looked past Muraki's shoulders to the bed. Hisoka lay motionless, his eyes closed.

_Dead._

"Don't hold it back. The ones you killed… they deserved it."

_Dead. Dead. Dead._

"There is no one to condemn you now," Muraki whispered in his ears. "Return to yourself… Tsuzuki."

"I'm…"

"The descendants of darkness," Muraki said. "You and me."

He let Muraki hold him, comforting him with physical contact. The noises in his head subsided.

"This power…?"

"Not only that. The drive to destroy. The desire to kill."

"But I don't want to…"

"Don't you remember?" Muraki cupped Tsuzuki's face with his hands. "You kept suppressing that, but you never succeeded. It is your nature."

_Yes, I remember…_

"You tried to kill me."

Tsuzuki looked down at his torn shirt. _I did._

"But now, you're afraid to kill. You're afraid to listen to your inmost instincts."

The world was spinning beneath him. Muraki's hands were the only thing that kept him grounded.

"What would have happened if you hadn't killed them? They would have killed you."

_"Demon! Demon!"_

_Yes, they would have._

"... How do you know… all that?" It was getting more difficult to speak.

"I researched on you," Muraki replied, caressing his cheek. "I told you, you fascinated me."

_This is so wrong._

"If I were one of them, and you hesitated to kill me… what would have happened to you, and the boy you wanted to protect?"

_This is so wrong…_

"Don't deny yourself. You are born to destroy. That's what your powers are for."

"No," Tsuzuki replied shakily. "To protect… Hisoka…"

"Who?" Muraki played with Tsuzuki's collar. "The one who keeps looking away from you? The one who loves another man?"

_Oh._

"But I told you before… we can do away with love."

Muraki kissed him.

_"Forget him,"_ he'd told Hisoka. Perhaps it was time to take his own advice.

Muraki's cold hand slipped past the tear on his shirt.

"Isn't this what you want?"

_This touch._

"Not some bothersome emotions that achieve nothing."

_This desire._

He placed his hand at the back of Muraki's neck and returned the kiss, more forcefully.

_…This lust._

Muraki winced in pain as Tsuzuki pressed on his wounded shoulder without a care.

_This is so familiar._

The doctor seized his hands. Tsuzuki frowned in disapproval.

"Before we get to that, I want to clear our way," Muraki said.

"What?"

Muraki glanced at the bed. Tsuzuki followed his gaze.

Funny how the sight of Hisoka didn't hurt him as much as it used to.

Still, he didn't understand what the doctor was getting at. "You want a funeral or something?"

Muraki smiled, seemingly pleased at his lack of reaction. "He's only unconscious."

"Then?"

"He's of no use to us now."

_Get rid of him, he is saying._

"I don't see why—"

"So there will be no turning back," Muraki said.

"…You don't trust me?"

Muraki looked at Tsuzuki seriously. "Will _you_ trust _me_?"

Tsuzuki had to admit that he had a point there.

As he was considering this, the doctor walked to where the revolver lay forgotten on the floor, and picked it up.

Tsuzuki watched warily as he made his way back. That gun was cocked as Tsuzuki had left it. Muraki smiled, and put the weapon into Tsuzuki's hand.

"Why don't you do it, then?"

.

..

* * *

_Author Notes:_

Weird behavior patterns will be explained in the next chapter. ^^0 Feel free to ask, though; I'll make sure to include the answer.


	12. The Deceit

_Author Notes:_

Hyah, sorry for the really long delay. It's not that I'm evil that I left you at the cliffhanger… just that I barely had time to write in the past few weeks. So please don't kill me.

The usual warnings, but worse. The rating is R now. (I apologize to unsuspecting readers whom I might have dragged along.) This chapter beats even the rape scene in sexual hints, and beats all previous chapters in morbidness. ^_^0 And I'm starting to wish I studied psychology for all the explanations I have to make here.

To **_Sunflower000_**_: _Hisoka was pointing the gun to Muraki's stomach, but Muraki tried to divert it upwards and so the bullet ended up in his shoulder. As for Tsuzuki, he was rather depressed that Hisoka didn't return his feelings, and subconsciously, he was still burdened by his past when people condemned his power. Muraki made use of this to confuse him and bring out his dark side. I thought of this dark side as somehow similar to the Multiple Personality Disorder. When one personality is in control, the other fades to the background, though it may still be conscious. (Just remember that this is my own imagination… heheh. I'm too lazy to do the research at this point of time.)

_Italics_ are thoughts.  
_"Quoted italics"_ are flashback dialogues.  
_—Italics between dashes—_ are Hisoka's telepathic thoughts.

_**

* * *

**_

**A Wing Short of Flying**

__

..

_This above all; to thine own self be true. _

**_- Polonius, in "Hamlet" by William Shakespeare_**

____

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Chapter Nine: The Deceit

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..

______

.

"You're conscious," Tsuzuki said. "About time."

Struggling to sit up, Hisoka looked at him with dazed eyes. Tsuzuki waited patiently until they focused properly.

"Wh—" Hisoka spoke, but only a screeching sound came out. The boy rubbed his blemished throat shakily, coughed and swallowed before trying again. "Where… is he?" he managed finally, the voice dry and rough.

"His room," Tsuzuki gave a random answer. He didn't care where Muraki had gone; it wasn't his concern if the doctor missed the show.

"He's still… alive?" It was almost hopeful. _What, did he think such a small wound could kill a man? He was still so green._

Tsuzuki nodded his answer rather nonchalantly. "Treating his wound now, I suppose."

Had his tone been too flat? Hisoka looked at him silently, searching his eyes.

_Those green eyes…staring so…_

He felt a strange sensation of déjà vu, looking at those eyes. The only firm element on this youth's skinny frame.

_Like a mirror._

He felt as if there was something he should remember, but what? There was a constant buzz in his brain that kept interfering with his thought. In this sudden anxiety he felt the gun hidden in the folds of the blanket under his hand.

Hisoka broke the eye contact. "Why am I still alive?"

_Because you need to be conscious to be able to feel the pain._

But he said, "I stopped him, remember?"

"Did he do anything to you?" Hisoka had jumped to the next question, seemingly ignoring his answer.

Tsuzuki wondered why he had to comply with a brat's curiosity. Ah, but this would build up the surprise. Few things were more delightful than the shocked expression on a prey's face.

_Back to the question_, Tsuzuki reminded himself. Muraki's face in pain was the first thing he recalled. Then, their kiss.

"Nothing much," he settled with, at last.

He noticed Hisoka's shoulders jolt ever so slightly, but the youth's face remained impassive. Too calm.

_You have to show me the pain._

The boy breathed in deeply. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I said I'd kill him for you, but I couldn't."

"Kill him for me," Tsuzuki repeated thoughtfully. "If I wanted him dead I'd have killed him myself."

"But you shouldn't," Hisoka said, and in a smaller voice, "One kill, and you'll be lost forever."

"You can't really say that when you yourself have tried to kill, can you?"

Hisoka didn't answer.

_Shall I use the gun? No… there isn't any fun in that._

"Tsuzuki?"

"What?" Tsuzuki drew closer. _I should have asked for the knife._

"Can you get me the book I was reading?"

"Where?"

"… Never mind."

"I'm asking you where it is," Tsuzuki said, rather annoyed.

"You don't remember. It's okay."

Tsuzuki huffed impatiently. "Okay then." _What is he trying to pull?_

The conversation was making him restless. It was getting difficult to play along when he couldn't remember his previous encounters with this boy. His memory kept flickering in and out of his mind like dying fireflies.

_I'll end it here, then._

"I don't like that gun either," Hisoka said, "so you can put it away now."

It took Tsuzuki a second to understand what he meant.

Then he smirked, pulled the gun out, and threw it on the floor. "You ruined my surprise."

"You don't need that weapon anyway."

"You want a slower death, then?"

"I want my chance to fight. At least I can die without regret that way."

"Underestimated you," Tsuzuki grinned. "You're quite interesting."

"Still, not enough for you to let me escape."

Tsuzuki shrugged. "It was a better deal I made with him."

Hisoka started to untangle his legs from the sheets. Tsuzuki caught his shoulders fast, pushing him against the headboard. "You're not going anywhere."

"I wasn't planning to," Hisoka said, a hint of sadness in his gaze. He pushed himself up against Tsuzuki's hold, and kissed him.

It was the last thing Tsuzuki expected.

The kiss was soft, but engaging, and he found himself responding readily. There was a feeling of great relief, somewhere deep, deep down…

_"Isn't this what you want? Not some bothersome emotions that achieve nothing."_

His feelings were returned at last.

Tsuzuki jolted at that thought. _What? I definitely do **not** love him! I was going to kill him, even!_

He pulled back with difficulty. "What are you t—"

"Mmh," Hisoka closed the gap once again.

And yet this felt so good.

Muraki. It felt almost like him. Firm, brave, not hesitant like what he thought the boy would be.

Ah, he'd forgotten they used to be together.

Tsuzuki found himself weighing between the two of them. One was his equal, who knew just how to satisfy his needs. Another was… a lovely slave.

A sly part of him wanted them both.

_— But you know how dangerous the doctor is. —_

_Huh?_

Tsuzuki shook his head. Was it his own mind talking to him again? There were so many thoughts that didn't felt like they belong to him.

_— Why don't you kill him instead? —_

There it went again. A familiar mind-voice, but he couldn't place it.

And Hisoka's skillful massage on his neck wasn't helping matters.

_— Kill him while you can. He will kill you someday. —_

But the doctor could give him what he wanted, the pleasure he craved. Surely he could handle playing with a little fire…

_— Haven't you got what you want now? —_

Tsuzuki paused.

_…Sure, this is what I want… right?_

There was that annoying tug at the back of his mind, though. Conscience? What did he care about conscience? He'd be foolish not to take up this offer. Totally laid out before him, those slender lips, those green crystals…

Hisoka was clutching the chest of his shirt with one hand, brushing his thigh with another.

_Oh, the doctor can go to hell._

He grabbed Hisoka's waist, pulling the young boy fully into his embrace. His hands roamed at the edges of Hisoka's clothes, seeking the boy's skin.

Haze and lust took over.

_— Burn. —_

Fire. Fire in his memory, the smell of flesh burning.

_— Burn it all down. —_

The heat building inside his body, the rush of adrenaline.

Out of nowhere, a flame materialized on the door handle. Tsuzuki barely noticed it as he continued pressing down on Hisoka, crushing that small body under his own.

"Scream now," he breathed into Hisoka's ear as he squeezed his gaunt hip mercilessly.

Hisoka let out a choked cry.

_Not good enough._

Smoke invaded his nostrils, and he turned to see what remained of the door collapse to the floor, enveloped in flames.

_The beautiful sight of fireflies._

Hisoka pulled him down again.

_— More. Again like that time, burn more… —_

The room was getting unbearably hot, almost too difficult to breathe in. He could hear Hisoka's broken gasps, but then again, it might be because Tsuzuki was biting down at his neck.

The boy was way too tolerant of pain, in Tsuzuki's opinion. He could never get enough agony in those lifeless jades.

"Aren't you worried about the fire?" he asked, tangling his fingers in Hisoka' hair and jerking it playfully.

"You won't die from it," Hisoka answered among heavy breaths. "That's the important thing."

_"I want you to live."_

Tsuzuki froze. That voice rang like thunder inside his head, yet no one had said it.

"Tsuzuki?"

The fire traveled on, onto the walls and floor, out of the room.

"What…" he winced at the headache, "…what do you mean?"

Hisoka reached out to touch his cheek. "Nothing. Forget it."

_— Don't care. Just keep it burning. —_

But the ringing voice didn't go away. Tsuzuki grasped the sheets and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to contain the sudden dizziness.

As he opened his eyes again, he caught Hisoka's worried look.

Another flicker of memory.

_It feels like I'm reading my own emotions in those eyes…_

In a flash, he remembered. This boy was empathic. And telepathic.

Hisoka touched his arm hesitantly. "…Are you all right?"

"No!" Tsuzuki snapped, his voice strained. "You… you were sending all those thoughts to my mind!"

Hisoka stared, then pulled away.

"You found me out," he replied flatly, his face betraying no emotion.

"What the hell are you trying to do to me?!"

"I want you to kill him," Hisoka said, watching the flames absently. "I wanted to do it myself, but I couldn't."

"You sure have some guts to use me for your revenge," Tsuzuki glared. "And after all that talk that I shouldn't kill."

"Tsuzuki…" the small voice sounded so sad, "… if this were really you I wouldn't have let you kill."

That sharp pang again. Tsuzuki cursed, trying his best to bear the pain.

_— No, do not return yet, Tsuzuki… —_

_Who…_

_— You must not remember. —_

_Inside my mind… who…_

_— Please… not now… —_

"Tsuzuki-san!"

The call pulled him out of the chaos in his mind. He turned to the doorless entrance. Of course, there was Muraki. He was busy spraying the fire-extinguisher around him. His expression was a mixture of shock and displeasure.

_— Kill him, now. —_

Tsuzuki flinched at the telepathic intrusion.

"If this is your idea of killing, Tsuzuki-san…" the mild reproach was obvious in Muraki's tone.

"You have a problem with that?" Tsuzuki retorted, hiding the feeling of disorientation.

_Too much smoke._

"We had a deal, remember?"

"And it's up to me how I accomplish that."

"I'm just worried that you might… enjoy yourself too much and forget about it," Muraki eyed Hisoka's disheveled clothes.

Hisoka just turned away impassively. Tsuzuki had half expected the youth to blush in embarrassment.

"Or are you still afraid to actually do it?" Muraki taunted.

"I don't—"

And suddenly all his memory rushed back to the surface, causing him to freeze on place.

The blinding light. The screeching explosion. The flames that engulfed the whole field together with all who were standing there, the burnt smell…

His first kill, and his last.

_"Monster…!"_

Recognition dawned on his face.

"No," Hisoka whispered, horrified.

Tsuzuki looked at him. _Hisoka._

The youth's eyes were liquid. Guilt, regret, apology…

"Why do you return now?" he whispered. "Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki didn't know how to answer that. He didn't even know how he had left his own body, on the first place.

"He was right," Muraki's voice startled him. With a swift move the doctor had placed a blade on his cheek.

"!"

"You should have stayed the way you were… the way you really are." Muraki sliced the flesh, making both Tsuzuki and Hisoka gasp. "Well, let's see if this—" he smeared the blood on Tsuzuki's lips— "can bring you back."

Tsuzuki's eyes glinted, and fire re-ignited from the ashes near Muraki's feet in an instant.

The next second it flew towards Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki cried out in surprise as the heat seared his skin. _What the—_

Muraki smiled broadly. "Ah, so it works. That was close." He reached into his pocket with his free hand, and took out a piece of white paper with black symbols written on it.

"Surely you don't think I'll leave such invincible power as yours out of my investigation?" he said. "Spiritual forces are not beyond science. You caught me with surprise the first time… and since then, I've promised myself it won't happen again."

Tsuzuki stared.

"I have just found this spell, that can repel your psychic powers. Comes in handy at a time like this." Muraki cut a fresh wound on top of the first one, which had started to heal. "So, is our deal still on? I would hate having to… eliminate both of you."

"You can't kill me," Tsuzuki stated coldly.

"Ah, your exceptional body cells," Muraki smiled. "But I've told you there are limits to everything in this universe, Tsuzuki-san. I know the cells' recovery rate. I need only to beat that."

Tsuzuki's eyes narrowed. _Was it just a bluff?_ "You said it was not achievable by normal means."

"Paranormal phenomena call for paranormal treatment. I'm not a scientist for nothing."

After seeing how his fire was repelled, Tsuzuki was ready to believe that.

_— Don't. —_

His gaze darted to the side to find Hisoka. He almost forgot the boy's presence.

Hisoka's eyes were directed straight at Muraki, and they were gleaming unnaturally. Tsuzuki's eyes widened.

With a clang, the knife on Tsuzuki's cheek fell to the floor.

_Telepathy?_

Muraki grunted as he bent over, clutching his temples.

_A telepathic assault._

Tsuzuki knew from his own experience how bad that could be. Hisoka had definitely controlled that power every time he talked in Tsuzuki's mind. The only time it was unshielded was when he projected his nightmare in his feverish sleep. It almost drove them insane that time, and that was while the boy was unconscious. This time it was done deliberately, with all his strength focused on it—

Speaking of which, he didn't have much of that left.

Hisoka was beyond pale now. On that white skin, the shimmering large green eyes were a scary sight. The look intent on killing.

_Fascinating._

As if in a trance, Tsuzuki turned to watch Muraki thrashing about in his terrible headache, finding no relief from any physical pain he inflicted on himself.

He knew what that felt like. The persistent buzz inside the head, knocking at the skull, threatening to shatter the brain. Like what he'd felt earlier.

Like what he felt now.

A voice inside whispered: _Just a little bit more._

Hisoka's head thudded on the headboard, having exhausted all his strength.

_Too bad…_

Muraki fell sitting on the floor, leaning on the leg of the table. He was sweating all over, and his face was still contorted in pain.

Tsuzuki's gaze fell on a piece of paper on the floor. The protection spell.

Within seconds, it turned to ashes. Without the energy support from its caster, it was easy to destroy.

Muraki didn't seem to notice. He was too busy trying to breathe.

Tsuzuki smiled.

He caught Muraki's last horrified look before the chemical caught on fire, before the table combusted, before the flames consumed even the metal the table was made of. After that he could only see a figure wrapped in the flame, thrashing wildly in overwhelming heat.

For the briefest moment Tsuzuki had a terrible déjà vu: blazes the color of the sun, as far as eyes could see; the crisp sound of jumping flames, the smell of flesh burning… But this time there were no screams, no haunting faces, no tears from his own eyes.

He kept his gaze on that brightly shining form as its movement slowly subsided, wobbling for a long torturous period, before it finally fell to the ground.

The room collapsed. From the corner of his eyes he registered Hisoka's form cuddling beneath the layers of sheets and blankets. He dragged himself to an open space, avoiding the falling pieces of the ceiling.

The fire kept burning.

_Brilliant at the moment of departure…_

_He didn't scream at all._

A weak conscience at the back of Tsuzuki's mind jolted in shock at the morbid thoughts. But he couldn't help them. Nor could he tear his eyes from the scene before him.

It had danced in flame, entranced in pain.

Fluttering like a dying butterfly on the window…

Then it fell.

It fell down…

.

..


	13. The Hand

_Author Notes:_

Thank you for all the encouraging reviews! ^^ I'm so wooed! And even greater thanks for your patience in waiting for my updates, and for still following the story when I seemed to have confused everyone like storm. ^^0

So a bit of explanation on the last chapter: I portray 'Dark Tsuzuki' as Tsuzuki's other personality, sort of. All the turmoil inside Tsuzuki's mind was because of the continual shift between these two personalities. The 'real' Tsuzuki regained control when Muraki came in, but the other one's traits resurfaced when he killed the doctor. At this point it was the real Tsuzuki all right, but the dark one was still lurking inside and feeding him bits of morbid, violent thoughts. Yeah. Was it too fancy?

No special warnings for this chapter, just talks on death, and a liberal amount of sappy angst (or angsty sap— is there such a thing?).

_Italics_ are thoughts.  
_"Quoted italics" _are flashback dialogues.

**

* * *

**

**A Wing Short of Flying**

..

_Now is the time not to be afraid._  
**_- John Galt, "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand_**

..

Chapter Ten: The Hand

__

..

__

.

_Butterflies._

Tsuzuki opened his eyes. The scene in his mind shifted away from the fire that still danced in his sleep every night, to the peaceful sight of the butterflies by the window.

But peace to him meant death all the same.

He absently wondered if they were the same ones that he knew months ago. He was once again confined within the white walls of the hospital room, though he never did remember how he had got here. Maybe the villagers had found him by the remains of Muraki's house and brought him here. It seemed like the only possible explanation, seeing as his only companion was barely alive at that time.

He turned to the bed beside him, the one that held Hisoka's bandaged, sleeping form.

Naturally, Tsuzuki had recovered much faster than him. Days had passed since Tsuzuki came to, and he had only seen the youth awake for a few brief periods.

They hadn't spoken to each other.

Amano-sensei had resumed his charge over Tsuzuki, and now, Hisoka as well. It was just because no others would replace him. Tsuzuki didn't need Hisoka's empathy to know that. It was all written in the doctor's weary face, in the wary eyes of the only nurse who'd been attending to him. Whoever had saved him was perhaps regretting it now. It didn't take much for their suspicious minds to deduce the cause of Muraki's death.

They had left him alone for a few days to date. Not that Tsuzuki actually missed them.

A gasp from Hisoka's direction caught his attention. Hisoka was waking up.

—Apparently from yet another nightmare, most probably with Tsuzuki in it.

Smiling bitterly to himself, Tsuzuki got up and went to Hisoka's bedside. His movements were still awkward, but getting better from day to day.

"Tsuzuki," he heard Hisoka's weak voice. The boy smiled at him hesitantly.

Slowly, he smiled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Itchy," Hisoka answered. "All over the place…"

Tsuzuki's grin came out somewhat awkward. "Then you're getting better."

Hisoka slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position. "I think so," he said. "How about you… did the doctor say anything?"

"He is used to me for two years already," Tsuzuki couldn't keep the cynicism out of his voice. "I suppose he knows by now that he need not do anything to heal me."

Silence.

Hisoka looked around slowly. "This is the same room you used to be in?"

Tsuzuki nodded. He suddenly felt like a schoolboy taking his girlfriend to his house for the first time, nervous that she might not like it. He quickly dismissed that ridiculous feeling.

Hisoka turned to him, a slight humor in his eyes. He had definitely read that.

"Well…" Tsuzuki started, but his words died in his thoughts. _How does he feel about me now? After I tried to kill him…_

Hisoka looked down at his lap.

"I'm s—"

"You have nothing to apologize for," Hisoka cut him off.

"—For hurting you," Tsuzuki continued anyway.

"I did manipulate your mind," Hisoka replied.

"—For I can't promise it won't happen again."

"I know."

Tsuzuki looked up. "You…"

Hisoka met his gaze. "Don't you think… there are already too many apologies between us?"

Tsuzuki smiled bitterly.

"Let's forget it," Hisoka said. "He is… dead."

_Just to what extent have our lives been affected by that one man…_

It brought back the memories of the killing, and Tsuzuki shuddered, feeling that presence stir inside him.

"I thought it would be fine," Hisoka said softly. "I thought you… this you… would not remember what happened, when the other you were…"

He didn't finish that.

_That's why you asked me to kill…_

Tsuzuki looked away. "And you had wanted to die with him, hadn't you."

"You won't die from it," the boy had said. "That's the important thing." And nothing else.

_Haven't we both been so tired of this life? Fight after fight… defeat after defeat… and even when we did win, we were left scarred and battered._

"I… was tempted to."

"Then…"

"I promised you I would stay," Hisoka said simply.

Tsuzuki stared. "I don't want you to carry that with you. A lot have changed since then." _I can't have you living for me when I myself have already—_

Hisoka placed a hand over his arm. "The point is… I want to finish what I've started. There are so many things I still need to do, and while I'm given the chance to go on, I will not refuse it."

He was so resigned to everything life threw at him. Yet that acceptance was what made him strong.

"…I used to go with him to hospitals and patients' houses," Hisoka said. "Some of those patients he managed to cure, but some… even he couldn't help. And I felt each one of those deaths— the regret over things they'd never managed to accomplish, the futile struggle to live just one more day…" He took a deep breath. "It made me realize that life itself was precious, that I shouldn't waste mine no matter how bad it turned to be."

_That is enough…_

"If this life is all wrong… then I should live to right the mistakes. I can't do anything if I'm dead."

_…That is all I need to know._

Tsuzuki smiled, placed his own hand over Hisoka's on top of his arm. "That is… wonderful."

Hisoka looked at him with that usual searching gaze of him, reading Tsuzuki's emotions.

"You too, Tsuzuki, don't ever think that you have no reason to live, no purpose…"

Tsuzuki leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss on the boy's cheek. He startled, and blushed slightly.

"Thank you," Tsuzuki said softly.

Wonderment in his eyes, Hisoka opened his mouth to reply, but Tsuzuki gently drew his hand away from their contact.

"You should rest now," he said.

"…All right." Hisoka sounded reluctant.

_Yes, you'll be all right._

He watched Hisoka slid back under the blanket and closed his eyes to rest. Then he returned to his bed, lied there sleepless, staring at the ceiling.

"Stay strong," he whispered, almost in a prayer.

.

.

Tsuzuki walked out to the hospital park. He had always watched this place from his window, but never had the chance to be here.

It was past midnight. His surroundings were in complete silence. His own bare feet treaded soundlessly on the grasses; his mind as blank as the darkness around him.

For a moment he thought he heard the footsteps of the security guard, but decided that he had imagined that. That man knew better than to risk his lungs walking around at this chilly hour.

Tsuzuki walked until he reached the far corner of the park. A lonely tree stood at the end of the grass patch, the two ends of the concrete walls forming its harbor from the world outside.

All thoughts came to his mind then, as he stood there watching the emptiness that was the sky.

He recalled his days in this hospital, a perfectly fine body wasting away without life energy in it, an apathetic mind bordering on insanity. They had been keeping him just for the fascination of his self-replenishing body cells, hoping they would one day discover the secret of immortality through him.

He couldn't comprehend how they still dared to dream of immortality when they'd seen what immortality made him.

Yet Tsuzuki didn't regret having survived those days to meet Hisoka. He didn't regret his decision to live for the comrade he found in that young boy. And although he didn't know whether it was the other him who'd put that thought in his mind, perhaps he didn't regret having killed Muraki either.

Life was precious, Hisoka had said. But they had killed Muraki, because they decided that he didn't deserve to live.

And Tsuzuki knew his other self was no better.

He took a deep sigh, closing his eyes. He had been controlling his other self carefully, painstakingly, by clinging to a single thought: Never hurt Hisoka again. The pressure built up within him with each day he spent recovering in the hospital, side by side with the one he treasured so much— the one he could hurt so easily.

He knew he was going to break one day. At that time all would be too late.

So while he still had the control… while the other hadn't the time to interfere…

Hisoka was all right now. He needed only to know that before he carried out what he'd decided days ago. He had waited anxiously for Hisoka to wake up, to ensure that the youth would be fine, to say the last things he wanted to say.

Hisoka was strong. He'd live through this somehow. Even without Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki opened his eyes briefly. _Am I being selfish?_ He asked the invisible stars. _Am I running away?_

He knew he was being a coward. But there was no better way.

The night sky above was gradually losing its pitch-dark quality. In a few hours red would strike across its vast expanse, dawn coming to replace the darkness. Together with it, this child of darkness would disappear.

At dawn they would find him. At dawn Hisoka would feel it.

_"I need only to beat the cells' recovery rate. Paranormal phenomena call for paranormal treatment."_

Guess he'd have to thank Muraki for that piece of enlightenment.

Tsuzuki inhaled deeply. He could already feel that other presence awakening slowly.

_Now,Tsuzuki. Before he had the chance to win._

Tsuzuki set himself on fire.

.

.

He didn't scream. He didn't even move as the heat consumed his skin, then his flesh, then his bones. He knew he must bear this without complaint, to justify the suffering of the people he'd killed in the same manner.

The voice sounded so far away. It couldn't be his. He had probably imagined it again.

"…zuki!"

He shouldn't care. Nothing in the living world concerned him anymore.

"Tsuzuki!!"

He refused to open his eyes.

The call stopped. He knew it was not real…

Then he felt a cool grip on his arms, and his eyes flew open instinctively. Nothing should interfere with his plan.

"…Hi…soka."

The boy stood before him, his body drenched wet, his two hands holding Tsuzuki's burning arms. He'd probably jumped into the fountain to wet himself on his way here. His hands were cold from the water and the night air, but turned warm within seconds as the fire started to transfer.

Tsuzuki quickly shook him off. "Silly! Don't touch the fire!"

"What are you thinking?!" Hisoka demanded, while trying to hold on to Tsuzuki.

"I have to do this."

"I don't see why! I thought we talked about that, and you…"

"I can't let myself hurt you again."

"You won't hurt me," Hisoka said, shielding his eyes as he came nearer to Tsuzuki. "For goodness' sake, Tsuzuki, put out the fire!"

"How can you tell? You're not the one living with this demon inside of you!"

Hisoka sprang to him, catching him in surprise. He fell backwards, and Hisoka fell on top of him. With surprising strength born from despair, Hisoka forced him to roll on the ground.

_I don't need another rescue…_

They lied on the bare patch of grass, breathing heavily. Hisoka jumped up the next second, hovering above him. He applied his wet shirt to the remaining fire on the pieces of Tsuzuki's clothes.

"How ruthless…" Tsuzuki caught him murmuring.

"You shouldn't have—"

Hisoka ignored him, examining the burnt flesh all over Tsuzuki's body. "They will heal soon, right…?"

Tsuzuki sat up promptly, catching Hisoka's hands. They too were burnt, though not as badly.

"But this won't," he admonished.

"Don't talk about these small wounds when you almost got yourself killed."

"You should be asleep."

"I felt you."

"You shouldn't interfere with my decision."

Hisoka was silent for a moment. "I should have just let you go?"

The sudden loneliness in that voice struck Tsuzuki.

"I'm not afraid of that demon, Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki shook his head sadly. "You don't understand. He is… a part of me..."

Hisoka's eyes softened. "If he is a part of you… all the more you can control him."

"I can't afford to take that risk. There will be people around me… there'll be you…"

"I will not let him take you."

The incident when he'd tried to kill Hisoka replayed in Tsuzuki's mind. The incident when he'd been overcome by his lust and they had—

He shook his head harshly.

"I am not enough?" Hisoka asked.

_You are… always… "It's not about you. It's me who—"_

Tsuzuki cried out as a bolt of pain hammered through his brain. It was over within seconds. He opened his eyes as the last flickers died in Hisoka's eyes.

"Are we any different, Tsuzuki?"

"You don't have this evil presence, this… monster."

"Everybody has his dark side," Hisoka said. "It had been so easy to hate my father, to wish for his painful death…"

Tsuzuki stared.

Hisoka smiled ironically. "I didn't try anything, though. I figured if this was my dark side, his coldness towards me could be part of his dark side. There is always the other side of him that my mother loves, that I have loved as a child."

Tsuzuki knew what he was implying. _You too have a good side…_

"You are… precious to me… and I'm willing to bear your dark side for that," Hisoka looked at him earnestly. "…Stay with me?"

A request for a promise, in return of a promise.

So much emotion surged up in Tsuzuki at that confession. If this continued he would not be able to resist…

Tsuzuki turned away from his gaze with difficulty.

"But I am such a monster," he murmured, his hands shaking as he pressed them on his face. "If one day it ever takes over, everything… everything will be lost."

_Do you understand? I can't stay even if I want to._

The silence that followed felt exactly like one of his numerous suicides.

_-…He was so accustomed to that feeling, the turning back from death. He remembered the sensation of fading out, the seemingly endless drifting in nothingness. Then always, always, he was pulled back by invisible hands… -_

He felt Hisoka touch his hands gently, prying them away from his face. The young one's burnt fingers were rough and callused just as his own, but the touch was softer than anything he could recall.

"I'm a monster too, Tsuzuki," Hisoka said softly. "It's okay to stay with me."

Under the gaze of the deep green eyes, Tsuzuki finally allowed himself to cry.

.

..

* * *

_Author Notes:_

One more chapter to go after this, which is the epilogue. Please hang on…


	14. The Sky

_Author Notes:_

Last one. It turns out longer than an epilogue should've been— there're just a lot of aftermath issues to settle. =P_  
_Ah yes, sap.

_Italics_ are (Tsuzuki's) thoughts.  
_"Quoted italics"_ are flashback dialogues.  
_—Italics between dashes—_ are Hisoka's telepathic thoughts.

**

* * *

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**A Wing Short of Flying**

..

_Then we sat on the edge of the earth, with our feet dangling over the side, and marveled that we had found each other._

_**- Erik Dillard**_

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Epilogue: The Sky

..

.

"I feel like a thief," Tsuzuki muttered, "for walking away after months of free food and lodging."

He had just walked out of the hospital grounds, with Hisoka at his side. They were, literally, empty-handed.

"You've done your part for science," Hisoka said. "It's their problem if they are too afraid of you to perform any experiments."

_Not that I'm eager to be a subject either_, Tsuzuki thought.

"But I still don't understand…" he said, frowning. "I didn't expect that man to release us... this easily."

He was referring to the man at the registration counter as they checked out that morning.

Hisoka grinned. "Oh, he didn't expect it either."

"What do you mean?" Tsuzuki turned to his companion, even more confused. "Hisoka, don't tell me you…"

"A bit," The tip of the boy's tongue darted out briefly in a playful manner.

Tsuzuki gaped at him in wonder.

"He has a lot of other concerns anyway," Hisoka said. "He's been secretly taking medicines from the hospital and selling them outside for his own profit. If I hadn't succeeded in psyching him, we could have shoved that fact to his face and see if he'd still insist on keeping you there."

Tsuzuki stopped on his tracks. "You read his mind?"

"I did." Hisoka paused as well, alarmed by Tsuzuki's serious look.

"Why did you do that?"

"Why… shouldn't I?" Hisoka was confused. "I just had to stretch my senses a bit, and his thoughts were there…"

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki frowned disapprovingly. "That is not the way you should use your power."

Hisoka was stunned. "…Oh."

"Everyone has something he doesn't want others to know," Tsuzuki continued. "The mind is a private place. It's a place for one to be alone. You shouldn't trespass it like that."

Hisoka stared at him, turning a bit pale. Then the youth looked away, ashamed. "I… I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be sorry to," Tsuzuki said with a softer tone.

Hisoka bowed his head even lower.

"Hey," Tsuzuki called softly, his hand reaching out to pat the boy's head. "Don't feel so bad. You've grown up having to exploit your power for experiments and all that— and no book can really teach the ethics of it."

"No, you— you're right about that. I shouldn't—"

"Then you've learned," Tsuzuki smiled, just as Hisoka looked up to meet his gaze. The boy hesitated, before returning the smile.

"After all," Tsuzuki added, "it shows that there's a child in you yet. It relieves me."

And it was true that during months of their recovery, Tsuzuki had observed Hisoka becoming rather… naughty. He supposed it was natural, even healthy, that the boy's playful nature would surface after years of oppression.

Presently Hisoka blushed a bit, but pouted to hide his embarrassment. "I'm not."

Tsuzuki just laughed.

They reached the main street.

"Shopping first?" Hisoka asked. He took out some money from his pocket and started to count. It was given to him by some of the nurses, as he'd been helping them to do simple chores in the past months. He'd actually pressed his help on them in an effort to collect some savings; but they had taken pity on him, and let him do what he could.

"Is it enough?"

"It has to be. We need clothes to change no matter what…"

"Let's go, then."

Tsuzuki took Hisoka's hand in his as they walked, and smiled to himself as the boy didn't seem to object the display of protectiveness.

.

.

"That's… one hell of an interview…" Hisoka breathed deeply, leaning on the door of the room. Their room now.

"Imagine two shabby men with minimum luggage and no money come and say, 'Hey, we read your ads and want to rent a room in your house'," Tsuzuki said with a smile, putting down the said luggage. "She might've thought we're escape prisoners or the kind."

"Illegal refugees," Hisoka said. "That's what she—oh." He covered his mouth, looking at Tsuzuki guiltily.

Tsuzuki simply smiled patiently.

"It just came," the youth said in a small voice. "Her thoughts were intense and I'm too used to catching…"

"It's all right; I know you didn't mean any harm."

"…You… wouldn't have let me use telepathy on her either, would you."

"No," Tsuzuki replied immediately. "She is a reasonable woman, and this matter is something we can talk over with her. I wouldn't want to force her even if she were to reject us."

"…I just wanted to help," Hisoka muttered. It was Tsuzuki who'd handled the whole persuasion, anyway. And real good at that, he was.

"You've helped a whole lot," Tsuzuki said gently. "I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't."

Hisoka's face turned troubled for a second as they both recalled the past, but he quickly overcame it.

_Don't worry, it is not a totally unpleasant memory... It is the memory of how you saved me, and my new life began._

_— And of how you've stayed for me. —_

"I should take a shower now," Hisoka straightened, and went to retrieve his new clothes. "I suppose dinner is expected in an hour."

They had offered to do all the household chores in place of the rental. At least until Tsuzuki found a job.

"Okay," Tsuzuki replied. "I'll be after you."

The door closed behind Hisoka. Tsuzuki sat on the bed, closing his eyes. Fatigue came to him then; it had been a long time since he'd walked about to so many places in half a day.

_Finally, our own life._

He knew it was not going to be easy. He also knew they might not overcome every difficulty.

It did not matter. He was happy as it was.

He opened his eyes again as the door opened, and Hisoka entered.

The T-shirt was too big for him, because the cheapest one came in one-size-fits-all. The collar hung loose to one side, exposing his collarbone. Tsuzuki stood up, and went over to fix it for him.

"Oh, thanks," Hisoka said, his hand automatically went up attempting to fix it himself. Tsuzuki's other hand stopped him.

_Beautiful._

One hand on Hisoka's shoulder and the other holding the boy's wrist, Tsuzuki slowly bent down. His eyes were fixed on Hisoka's face, watching the blush spread across the boy's features.

He landed a soft kiss on the tip of Hisoka's nose.

"Ng," Hisoka made a small noise as he wrinkled his nose, embarrassed.

_Cute._

Tsuzuki laughed, and messed Hisoka's hair.

"Argh!" Hisoka protested, as his sight was covered by his long bangs. He raised his free hand and tried to pull Tsuzuki's hair, unsuccessfully.

Still laughing, Tsuzuki caught the other wrist as well.

"Tsuzuki!"

_Delicious._

He held them tight, not letting go despite the young boy's vigorous pulling. His fingers sank deeper into the flesh.

Hisoka threw his head back to get the hair out of the way. "Hey—"

With his head still tilted, he suddenly found Tsuzuki's face once again very close.

_In my hands, helpless._

"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka's voice became urgent, but turned vague on Tsuzuki's ears. He turned away as Tsuzuki tried to catch his lips, causing the kiss to fall on his cheek instead.

"Tsuzuki!"

_— TSUZUKI! —_

Hisoka's sharp mind-voice startled him. _What—_

Tsuzuki jerked backwards instantly, releasing all his held on the boy. Gradually he registered the calm face, the familiar green eyes pulling him back to reality— the room, the time, the two of them.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out, "I don't know what… oh, I'm so sorry!"

Hisoka took a step towards him, his eyes softening. "It's okay, Tsuzuki. Calm down."

"It's not! What could I have done to you if I—"

"That's what I'm here for," Hisoka touched his arms, "to take you back."

"Hiso—"

"Sshhh." He was enclosed in a warm embrace.

The world quieted down.

He searched for the dark presence inside his mind, but it had disappeared as discreetly as it had come. If not for Hisoka's empathy, they wouldn't have known until it was too late.

Sensing his thoughts, the embrace tightened.

"He's getting better," Tsuzuki mumbled. The few times it happened before this, he had managed to detect it himself before it got far.

"It is all right, Tsuzuki."

"It will happen again, and again, and again."

"Then I'll bring you back, again, and again, and again."

"He will learn," Tsuzuki said, "he will stop you before you can do that."

"I will learn, too," Hisoka said. "And you will learn to restrain him, too. We'll be fine."

Tsuzuki buried his face further into the hug. "I won't be able to forgive myself if I ever hurt you again."

"You won't hurt me," Hisoka said patiently, "because I won't feel hurt, no matter what you do to me."

"You really shouldn't…"

"I've said I'll bear with you."

Tsuzuki pulled away from the hug. "I don't doubt you," he said in a guilty tone. "I'm sorry. I'm just scared… and insecure."

"I know," Hisoka brushed his fingers against Tsuzuki's forehead, tidying his bangs. "We've made this decision, and we'll stick to it. Okay?"

Tsuzuki nodded.

"It's okay to be afraid. Just… don't back out. All right?"

_— Don't leave me. —_

"I won't." He took Hisoka's hands in his, bringing them to his lips. "I won't."

"Take a shower, then," Hisoka ushered him gently. "I'll wait for you."

With a shaky smile, Tsuzuki complied. He knew Hisoka would be waiting outside the shower room, staying close to him. Sometimes he was worried that he'd tire the boy out, to be keeping a close watch on him all the time.

_— You know I don't mind. —_

_…Yeah._

The cool water on his skin made him feel better.

_"…Don't back out."_

After all that, how could they give up? They had nothing to lose after all, except, perhaps, one another…

"Be strong," he mumbled to himself. "You know full well it's supposed to be this tough."

It wasn't like he had no motivation to strive. It wasn't like he had no purpose to stay. There were a lot of things he could do.

_Prepare the meal, after the shower._

_Find a job tomorrow._

_Pay the rent._

_Buy us decent clothing._

_Get Hisoka books to read._

He walked out of the shower room, and true enough, found Hisoka waiting there for him. The youth smiled.

_Keep that smile on his face._

He returned the smile, and took Hisoka's hand.

_Live._

.

..

* * *

_Author Notes:_

I thought I'd just explain a bit on the characterization, as it changed quite a lot in this chapter.

I've portrayed Hisoka as a very mature boy for his age, because of what he's gone through. He is able to see deep into some matters, and is emotionally stronger than Tsuzuki. Yet there is still an unpolished side of him, because he has never been properly educated. In this chapter he is much more carefree in doing what he wants with his power. I think a teenager like him does have a tendency to be arrogant of what he has… Heck, I just want him to be a bit normal. =P

Tsuzuki's caring personality is still there, but he responds to Hisoka's growing playfulness by taking on the educator role, being the more responsible one between them. I would have liked Tsuzuki to be a stricter person, even— he's much cooler in Nagasaki Arc compared to later chapters... ^^ I can't help but make him an insecure person still, though. It's rather impossible for him not to be when faced with such danger of falling all the time…

That's all… a real big thanks to everyone who've followed my writing to the end! And my heartfelt appreciation for your reviews and feedbacks, too! =)


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